The Anti Angst Movement
by Di-chan
Summary: Chapter 16! [slash] A movement is the activities of a group of people to achieve a specific goal. Our goal: to shine a beam of fluff in the shadows of angst of the HarryDraco 'ship. Cliché? I think not. Description inside. [work in progress]
1. The Harry Has a Nightmare Cliché

**Title **: The Anti-Angst Movement

**Author **: Di-chan

**Description** : A collection of related ficlets demoting angst and promoting fluff : join Di-chan and her band of miscellaneous muses in their quest of attacking well-known (and not so well-known) H/D clichés and presenting them in a new anti-angst, pro-fluff debut of romance and hilarity!

**Rating** : PG-13

**Archive** : Fanfiction.net, Fiction Alley (Schnoogle), Pure Magnetism

**Pairing** : Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione, Blaise/Seamus, others

**Warnings** : Slash (don't say I didn't warn you), het, language, mature themes, excessive humor, excessive fluff, and NO ANGST!

**Flames** : Will be glomped and snuggled with while author secretly stuffs a dung bomb into flamer's underwear (or, if the flamer has no underwear on at the time, up their nose. If flamer has no nose, up the ass. If flamer has no ass, flamer should consider wondering what he/she is going to do, as he/she cannot go #2 now.). If flame is of homosexuality, what the HELL are you doing reading this thing in the first place?

**Disclaimer** : This story contains characters created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. and AOL/Time Warner, Inc., and may incorporate characters, locations and things created and/or owned by other third parties including but not limited to Joss Whedon, George Lucas and/or Lucasfilm, Fox, Paramount, Random House, Pengun Putnam, Inc., Ballantine Books, and a lot of other people. No permission has been given and since no money is being made here, no infringement is intended. I'd also like to note that Section 102(b) of the U.S. Copyright Act makes it clear that copyright protection does not extent to ideas, procedures, concepts, principles or discoveries – only the actual words used to express those things. The Harry/Draco clichés and/or ideas belong to the Harry/Draco fanfictions and/or authors. Di-chan belongs to herself. Oh, and the disclaimer was borrowed from Snoogle.com.

~*~

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 1 : The Harry Has a Nightmare Cliché**

~*~

"Aaaauuugghh!"

Several heads snapped up at once. Some had guilty looks, as if they had been doing something they shouldn't have been doing. Some looked fearful, as if one Professor Snape had found exactly _what_ was in their Potions essay, because everybody knew that Snape didn't _actually_ read the essays – he just took one point off if it was from a Gryffindor. For most of the faces now visible, there was startle and a raised eyebrow.

The source of the yell was none other than a huffing, puffing, I-am-SO-going-to-blow-someone-up Draco Malfoy. The ruffled Slytherin was pointing an angry finger at a bewildered Harry Potter. Now all of the students had raised eyebrows (just one per student!).

"YOU!" shouted the enraged blonde.

The class jumped as a whole. The eyebrows started twitching. Both of Hermione Granger's eyebrows had shot to her hairline; it looked as if she had no eyebrows at all.

Harry eeped.

"You!" hissed the angry Head Boy.

Harry dared to speak, even though all of his instincts were telling him to run like hell. "Er, what about me?"

Silver eyes narrowed, and suddenly Harry found himself shoved against the wall. A strong hand held his wrists above his head, while its mate held Harry's chin. Harry gulped as he stared up at Draco.

"You..." murmured the taller boy, as he leaned down and pressed his lips to Harry's.

~*~

"Aaaauuugghh!" 

Harry Potter's eyes snapped open, the remnants of the dream... no... nightmare flowing through his mind. He bolted from his chair as if burned, wild green eyes focused on nothing.

Several heads snapped up at once. All eyes fixed on the Boy-Who-Lived, who was panting as if he had just run the entirety of Hogwarts with a very angry Severus Snape on his heels. The aforementioned Potions master, while not snapping at Harry's feet, stood from his desk and glared at the Gryffindor.

"Potter! What is the meaning of this?"

Harry didn't answer for a moment. His eyes cleared and, as if by magnetic pull, shifted to the blonde Slytherin at the front of the room, who was watching him. They stared at each other for a moment.

Understanding suddenly filled the silver eyes. Harry blanched. With a smirk, Draco Malfoy stood and ambled his way to the shorter Gryffindor.

"Why, Potter, I never knew you cared..." The silver-eyed Slytherin leaned down and pressed his lips to Harry's.

"Aaaauuugghh!"

All students jumped. This time, the scream came from Snape. He had seized his throat, and his face looked rather blue. The professor sputtered, turned over once, and promptly died.

Utter silence.

"Aaaauuugghh!"

Again the students were put in risk of heart failure as not Draco, not Harry, and definitely not Snape, but NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM of all people screamed. The clumsy boy rushed to Snape's side and threw himself over the prone body, either not noticing or not minding that his hand became very greasy as he ran it through Snape's hair.

"No! My love! Don't leave me! We haven't even consummated one hundred times yet!"

Several of the students turned green.

Draco pulled himself away from the wonder that was Harry Potter's lips, and smirked at the blue professor. "I told him that if he saw me kiss Harry that his tongue would turn into a snake and choke him to death, but did he listen?"

Harry, who was looking rather breathless, gazed up at Draco with verdant eyes filled with afterglow. "Draco... kiss me again..."

Said Malfoy looked down at his prize with another smirk. "If kissing you makes you glow like this, I can't wait until the honeymoon!"

At the word "honeymoon," Ron Weasley fell over in a dead faint.

Unknown to (or perhaps ignored by) all, Neville cried over Severus Snape's body, whispering that he would never let his love's sex drive have died in vain, and no, the handcuffs would not be wasted...

~*~

"Aaaauuugghh!"

Severus Snape bolted upright in bed. His black eyes snapped to the side, and the Potions professor relaxed as he found confused dark eyes gazing at him from under a dark black mat of hair.

"Severus? Honey, are you okay?" came the sleepy voice of his beloved.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just a nightmare."

"Oh... good..." A playful glint entered the dark eyes. "Now that we're up, want to..."

"...shag? Brilliant idea, Sirius."

~*~

"Aaaauuugghh!"

Harry Potter bolted upright in bed, his eyes wide. Quickly, he pinched himself in the thigh, and at the burst of pain caused by his too-long nails, Harry deemed himself in the real world and allowed his body to relax.

Only to have it tense up again as one Vernon Dursley banged on the door. "Shut up in there, boy! One more noise out of you and it's into the cupboard you go!"

Harry didn't move until the thundering footsteps faded away. He breathed a sigh of relief, and rolled over to go back to sleep.

"That was the scariest dream I've ever had..."

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	2. The Draco Comes to Privet Drive 4 Cliché

**The Anti-Angst Movement******

**Chapter 2: The Draco Comes to ****Privet Drive**** 4 Cliché**

~*~

Harry woke to the oh-so-wonderful sound of silence. Blinking, the seventeen-year-old Boy-Who-Lived sat up in bed, wondering if he had heard right.

Silence.

Oh yeah. The Dursleys were spending the day at the carnival.

Slowly, a gleeful smile crept across Harry's face. Harry tried to squash it like the bug it was, but it kept on creeping, so Harry let it stay. He slid out of bed, stretched, and skipped downstairs in only his very short shorts, knowing that Uncle Vernon couldn't get on his case for having (much, much, much) nicer legs than Dudley now.

Outside, a canary had started singing trilly. "Who wears short shorts? Harry wears short shorts!" A shoe promptly hit the canary, forcing it to shut its beak and figure out how to get out of a shoe.

Harry put Uncle Vernon's other boot down, cackled to himself, and shook off an image from the very strange dream he had had last night. After inspecting the list of chores that Aunt Petunia had left him (honestly, who cared if the shrubbery was clipped at a specific 23-degree angle? Of course he could do it, but it was so trivial. A 22.7-degree angle was much more prominent.), Harry mixed up some muffins, gathered up the mail and newspaper, and sat down to read.

Four paragraphs into an engrossing article about one of Uncle Vernon's rival drilling companies (oooh, was Uncle Vernon going to be mad when he read this one), Harry heard a cough to his left. Having not expected anyone to be home, Harry's reaction was understandable.

He squealed like a girl and dived behind his paper.

A pause, and then the stranger next to him began to laugh.

"Oh, oh," the decidedly male voice wheezed, "I never knew you had it in you, Potter! I haven't heard you hit that note since third year!"

Harry blinked stupidly at the text that read "SMELTINGS BOYS DISCOVERED TO WEIGH THE SAME AS SMALL WHALES" before jerking the paper down and staring at his unexpected guest.

Having never expected to see his school rival laughing himself silly in the Dursleys' kitchen, Harry's reaction this time was also understandable.

He eeped good-naturedly and fell out of his chair.

Draco Malfoy sniggered for a moment longer, then peered over the side of his chair at the long, shapely legs that led to the even shapelier bottom of the Boy Wonder, who, as opposed to feeling mortified, was cursing the day he had agreed to go with Hagrid to Diagon Alley. Then he would never had known Malfoy... Oh, if only!

A grin played on the silver-eyed boy's lips as he reached down and gently patted Harry's bum. "Come on, Potter, are you going to grace me with this lovely view all day, or are you going to greet me properly? Although I rather like you in this position..."

Now, Harry was mortified. So mortified his poor muddled brain missed the 'lovely view' and 'rather like you in this position' parts.

"Ack! No! Malfoy! Don't touch my arse!" The green-eyed Gryffindor leaped up from his rather ungainly splatter on the ground and covered his behind with his hands, backing away from Draco. He was suddenly very aware of how much of his body was uncovered, and how much the short shorts revealed.

Draco chortled, reaching down to pick up the dropped paper. He deftly folded the paper and laid it on the table before lifting his amused eyes to meet Harry's. The Slytherin stayed silent, as if waiting.

Harry figured he knew what the other boy was waiting for, but right now, mortification was still having tea with his inner self, so any normal train of thought was put on hold. "Uh, right. C-Could you hold that thought for one, ah, one moment, Malfoy? Let me be decently dressed before you kill me and all? Help yourself to b-breakfast." With a wild gesture to the plate of bacon on the table, the Boy-Who-Lived sped up the stairs as if a very angry Severus Snape was on his heels.

~*~

Harry was dressed and ready to face Draco Malfoy in less than twelve minutes. It would have been four, but Harry had quickly discovered that his only pair of fitting pants was in the dryer, and so had to run back downstairs, sneak past the kitchen, and dive into the laundry room to wait five minutes for his jeans to tumble dry. Plus it took an extra two minutes for the _shirt_ to be found. Stupid Dursleys.

Let's see... Only pair of jeans that wouldn't slide off his slim hips even WITH a belt? Check. Tee shirt he wore when working in the garden? Check. Wand? Check, but he wouldn't be able to use it. Damn laws. Glasses? Check. Colog-- wait a second. Cologne?!?

Harry quickly dunked his head under the tap in the sink, then hurriedly wiped his head free of water with a towel. He looked at himself in the mirror, deemed himself decent, then hurried downstairs.

Oh, he was nervous. Definitely nervous as he peeked into the kitchen. Very nervous as he watched Malfoy bite into a muffin.

Wait. Muffin?

"My muffins!"

Harry forgot all nervousness and ran into the kitchen, heading straight for the oven. He yanked the oven door open and reached in, foregoing the usual oven mit and even most of his sense.

Thankfully, the other occupant of the room still had some. Even if it was dwindling fast.

When Draco Malfoy had seen the young (not to mention extremely sexy) Gryffindor waltz into the room in naught but those tiny red shorts, the blonde Slytherin was sure he had died and gone to heaven. Very surprisingly, and somewhat worryingly, the tanned teen had completely ignored him, as if not even sensing his presence. Giving the density of Harry's head, Draco wouldn't have been surprised if that had been the case.

Apparently it had. After Harry had put his muffins in the oven and settled down with the paper, Draco had to clear his throat to get the boy's attention. After finding himself thoroughly amused by Harry's reaction to the fact that, yes, indeed, Draco Malfoy was sitting at his table, Draco had taken in as much of the view of the Gryffindor's lovely bum as he could. Sadly, the smaller teen had run off as fast as, well, as if a very angry Severus was at his heels. Draco decided to amuse himself with the Muggle newspaper in the meantime.

However, when Harry rushed back into the room in those pants... and that shirt... It was barely there! Draco had to check himself for drool. _Merlin, does the boy not realize how fucking hot he is?! Apparently not..._

Drool was forgotten when Harry stuck his hand into the oven to save the already saved muffins. Draco's eyes widened, and he leaped forward and grabbed the smaller boy's wrist before he could make his hand melt. He yanked Harry back, kicked the oven door shut, and leaned against the counter, shocked Gryffindor on his chest and all that.

After he had regained his sanity (and lost the battle with his libido, as he got a good feel of just how strong the slim Seeker's legs were when they were squeezed around one of his own), Draco leaned forward and touched his lips against Harry's ear. "Potter," he whispered, "You do realize that I already took your muffins out?"

The boy in his arms shivered, and Harry turned his head away, his face warm. "I knew that," he whispered back.

Draco snorted. "Indeed." Suddenly he was reminded of his purpose there. Reluctantly he let go of the Gryffindor and gently pushed him away, before stepping around him and reseating himself.

Behind him, Harry hesitated for a moment, then sat down next to him again. They sat uncomfortably for a minute.

Two minutes.

After three and a half minutes, Harry was finally regaining some of the very little sense he had. He eyed Draco suspiciously, as the blonde boy calmly ate one of his - was Draco Malfoy really eating his muffins? - muffins. Silver eyes flickered up to meet vivid green ones. Immediately a staring contest ensued.

Normally Draco would deem himself too mature for trivial games such as this, but this was Harry and he loved doing anything with Harry. Oh, yeah, he had come to terms with his love for Harry last year, blah blah blah, you know the drill. Father wasn't very happy, neither was Severus, but neither could very well do anything about it as he was pointing his wand at Lucius' crotch at the time. 

Mother on the other hand was enthralled. To have the heir of a Hogwarts founder in the family! Oh, the bragging she could do! Among other evil plans, the matriarch of the Malfoy family set off to plan her son's marriage to the Boy-Who-Lived. Remus, an old schoolmate, would of course be on her side; she was sure the Weasleys wouldn't be too happy, but she had been somewhat somewhat friendly with Molly in school, so hope resided there. Now, who to invite...

In other words, Narcissa Malfoy loved the idea. With Mother solidly on his side, Father couldn't do a thing about it. Mwahaha. He loved being rich and snobbish.

Right at that moment, the canary, yes, the very same one who had found itself in a shoe earlier, freed itself and started to sing its lovely song again.

"Who wears short shorts? Harry wear short shorts!"

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched upwards. Harry blanched. He couldn't... but he had to...

And so Gryffindor finally admitted defeat to Slytherin as Harry turned his eyes away to death glare at the evil canary. 

Draco decided he would glare at the bird as well, as it had stolen Harry's glare from him. Never mind it looked like a Hufflepuff. It, in fact, reminded him of Justin Finch-Fletchley, who was rumoured to have a deep crush on the Boy-Who-Lived.

This thought only served to fuel Draco's glare. With gasoline.

The poor canary never knew what was coming. One moment, it was happily singing of Harry's wonderfully short shorts, and the next -- well, I think you know the rest.

Draco clapped rather dryly as he watched Harry dust his hands off. "Good throw, Potter. But what will your ogre of an uncle do when he finds his boots in the yard? With a flattened bird underneath, no less?"

Harry thought about this, then shrugged it off. "I'll bring them in later. He won't know the difference."

"Ah, I don't think you'll be able to do that, Potter."

This caught Harry's attention, and emerald eyes swerved onto Draco's silver ones. Draco had to try twice before he could get any words out. _That boy's eyes could kill. "I'm here to escort you to Diagon Alley. Dumbledore's orders. You will spend today and tomorrow in Diagon Alley, buying your school supplies and restocking on any other supplies, and then the day after tomorrow I will escort you to the platform. Also Dumbledore's orders."_

Harry's eyebrows rose at this, and he blinked several times. "You're here to escort me?" he asked, a bit dubiously.

"Mm."

"And not to kill me?"

"Mm."

"Under Dumbledore's orders?"

"Mm-hm."

"...Since when have you listened to Dumbledore?"

"Since I joined the Order."

"... Oh."

"Yeah."

"..."

"..."

"...Why you? Why me?"

"Because I just happen to be the only person free at this time, and because you're Dumbledore's Golden Boy."

Harry scowled at the pen name but accepted the answer anyway, albeit grudgingly. "Aren't you supposed to be Number One Death Eater's Son or something?"

"Oh, I am. Don't worry about that."

"Then... why side with Dumbledore?"

Draco flashed a handsome smile. "The person I love is on Dumbledore's side. Besides, I don't want to be a Death Eater. The tattoos are awful, and have you seen those robes? Revolting."

Harry was stunned by this news. _The person he loves?_ But what came out of his mouth was, "You don't want to be a Death Eater?"

"Merlin, no. I may not like muggles, and the Dark Arts may be fascinating, but I'm not much for world domination, thank you. I'm already rich enough to own all of Europe anyway." A self-satisfied smirk at that.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right. I'll remember that next time I hear about a northern country on auction."

"I'll be waiting for the news. Meanwhile, you need to get your tight little Gryffindor arse upstairs and to packing. We don't have all day."

Harry flushed at the...compliment?...on his arse. He stared down at his lap for a moment, before looking up at Draco again. "Malfoy?"

Silver eyes glanced up from their study of pristine fingernails. "Hmm?"

"Are you... are you really on the side of Light? Against Voldemort and all that?"

Harry was shocked to see the silver eyes soften with what he could only define as affection. "I wish I could say yes, Harry. But for the risk of endangering my family, I cannot answer that question."

Emerald eyes held silver ones for a long moment. Harry finally broke the gaze and stood to walk to the door. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at Draco. "I'm glad, Malfoy," he said softly, before disappearing upstairs.

Draco had to smile.

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	3. The Diagon Alley Cliché

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 3 : The Diagon Alley Cliché**

~*~

It wasn't until Harry closed the door to Privet Drive 4 that he really thought about what was happening. He paused, glancing back at the door in a way that Draco found adorable, as he hadn't taken his eyes off Harry since he had heaved his trunk down the stairs to Draco's feet.

"Um, Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"How... are we getting there?"

"I'll be driving."

At this, green eyes snapped up to lock with silver ones, surprise obvious in the verdant orbs. "What?!"

Draco had to repress a smile. "I said, I'll be driving. Professor Snape taught me how to drive this summer."

Harry didn't know at which to be more surprised: the fact that Draco Malfoy knew how to drive, or the fact that he was taught how to drive by Severus Snape.

Unfortunately, Harry wasn't able to choose which, as at that moment the taller boy seized his hand with one hand and his trunk with the other and proceeded to drag both to a small, fashionable car parked in the driveway. Harry stared at it for a second before the side door opened and he was shoved inside. He stared blankly at the dashboard, noting the clean smell of the car, as well as a few trinkets that were undoubtedly Draco's.

He heard another car door slam, and then Draco was climbing into the driver's seat beside him. Without really thinking about it, he pulled on his seatbelt, while tucking his hands to either side of his legs.

Draco flashed a smile at him, and then they were off.

~*~

Later Harry noted that the car was obviously one of those magical cars like those of the Ministry, for it was faster than a speeding police car, able to leap long traffic lines in a single bound, and more powerful than a Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes product...

~*~

Draco pulled to a stop about two shops down from the Leaky Cauldron. He turned to Harry and opened his mouth to speak.

Only for Harry to cut him off. "Is this car magical?"

_Oh, Harry..._ "Yes."

"Like Sirius' motorcycle and the Ministry's cars?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Yes." Draco suppressed a smile and opened his mouth to speak again.

Harry cut him off. Again. "Are you going to go in with me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Image."

"Oh, yeah..."

Draco suppressed a sigh and another smile. He opened his mouth to sp—

"Hey, Malfoy?"

_Bloody Gryffindors! _"Yes?"

"Why is the sky blue?"

_You have got to be kidding me. _"Because of the strong signal from the blue receptors in your... Potter."

A mischievous grin. "Yes?"

"Am I to ascertain that the first two questions were real, and the last one was just to annoy me?"

"Possibly. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Right."

Draco rolled his eyes, reached over to clap a hand over Harry's opening mouth, and FINALLY got around to what he was saying.

"Chirp."

"BLOODY HELL!"

"...Harry wears short shorts?"

"That's it, I don't care what the Ministry says, that bird is DEAD!"

Harry was trapped under Draco's hand while the blonde was attempting to murder the poor, innocent canary who just *had* to come along so he could get another view of those wonderfully short shorts (which, you must remember, Harry wasn't even *wearing* – or was he?), so he couldn't really do anything to save the bird (or stop Draco from hurting _him_.). So, he did the first thing that came to mind.

He licked Draco's hand.

The Slytherin froze. The canary froze. Hell, even the car seemed to freeze. Or was that antifreeze? Harry wasn't sure.

About 3.2 seconds after Harry licked Draco's hand, Draco reacted.

"Bloody hell," came the hoarse whisper. Harry had to wonder what was wrong as Draco took his hand away. An uncomfortable silence filled the car, as Draco stared off into space, Harry eyed Draco out of the corner of his eye, and the canary looked between the two with a look remarkably reminiscent of one Hermione Granger. That is to say, very calculating and superior.

(Of course, at the time, the devious canary had been plotting a way to steal Harry's Short Shorts and tie them to one of the Quidditch goals at Hogwarts. How the bird knew of Hogwarts and Quidditch goals, we don't know. Then again, how can a bird talk? ... It's MAGICAL!)

Harry was just starting to feel the burn of the silence when a hand grabbed him, hauled him over the stick shift, and deposited him in a warm lap. Harry eeped again and stared as Draco grabbed his chin and pulled him in for...

...a low-murmured talk in his ear. "Harry, I'll have to warn you now: if you do that again, the results won't be pretty." Harry had to suppress a shiver. "You are going to get out of the car, gather your trunk, and go into the Leaky Cauldron alone. You will check in with Tom and go up to your room. Ten minutes later, I will go up to my room. When I knock on your east wall three times, gather your school list and money and go to Diagon Alley. An Auror will be watching you from then on. I'll meet you in your room at one o'clock. All right?"

Harry nodded quickly, his eyes wide. Draco's warm breath was doing wonders to his sensitive ear, and he was feeling rather warm himself...

At that moment, Draco picked him up and put him back in his rightful seat. Harry almost pouted at the loss of warmth, but he spotted something else. Or, rather, someone. Someone that made Harry's entire world perk up and say,

"Ron!" ...as cried by the overjoyed Harry.

Draco's eyes widened, and he turned a silver stare onto the tall redhead climbing out of the taxi in front of them. The redhead helped another redhead out, only this one was a girl and only came up to the boy's mid-chest.

"And... Ginny..." Harry deflated. He wasn't ready to face Ginny yet. Not after their failed relationship that lasted only, oh, about two weeks at the end of last term. He just didn't feel right with her. Not only that, but the hair also reminded him of Ron, and Ron had long been placed in the "Never Going To Involve Sex" category that Harry filed his peers into. 

[Others in the NGTIS category were Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, other Hogwarts professors, Remus, Hermione, and Colin Creevey. Oooh, shudder at the last one.]

The redhead let his sister pass then helped another girl out, who was taller with long brown hair.

Harry immediately perked up again, sparkles and all. "And Hermione!"

Draco was very fortunate that the windows were the special tinted ones – where you look out and see every detail imaginable but you look in and you see black, making it so that while inside you can make faces at someone outside all you want and they'll NEVER notice – because at that moment Ron panned a view of the surrounding street, the blue eyes passing over Draco, the car, and Harry. Not seeing anything of importance, the youngest male Weasley led his sister and girlfriend into the Leaky Cauldron, trunks and all.

Harry looked slightly put off by Ron not seeing him, but the glow of seeing his friends made him push it aside. He flashed a wide grin at Draco and leaped out of the car, a "Bye, Malfoy!" escaping his lips. A few minutes later, he was dragging his trunk into the Leaky Cauldron.

Draco sighed, glanced at the clock, and started daydreaming. Ahh... Harry and whipped cream...

~*~

Meanwhile, in another part of the car, a certain yellow canary was plotting...

~*~

Harry smiled as he waved bye to his friends. They were going to finish their shopping while he went to meet Drac—er, Malfoy. Er, Draco. Oh, hell. _That's it, he's Ferret Boy and I'll say nothing else._ Harry glanced at his watch to make sure he wasn't late, realized he would be if he stood around any longer, and started toward the Leaky Cauldron.

_Malf__—er, Ferret Boy has such **nice legs... And it felt rather nice to sit in his lap. Kinda like Justin, only... different. Justin was really sweet, letting me sit in his lap when there was nowhere else to sit. Too bad his wand was poking me in the butt the whole time, now **that** was uncomfortable. Hmmm... from what I've seen in class, I bet Draco's wand is bigger. Probably a bit wider, too.**_

Suddenly Harry remembered what 'wand' could stand for. He stopped in front of his door, thinking about that.

_Ooooh__... Harry felt faint at such thoughts. __What would that feel like? Eurgh, what if that wasn't Justin's REAL wand, but actually his d—_

Harry wasn't able to finish that thought, as the door chose that moment to open.

~*~

Draco, at the very same moment Harry had first thought about Justin's wand, had just remembered that Prefect meeting where there had been no seats left due to a few teachers' presences, and how a certain Hufflepuff had offered HIS Gryffindor honey a lap to sit in. Draco had been very glad that Severus was next to him, otherwise he probably would have shot out of his seat and strangled the maniacally grinning canary. Who was sitting on the other side of him. And he could tell just by _looking_ that Finch-Fletchley was hard. Harry had seemed distinctly uncomfortable, and when Harry had asked Justin to move his wand, Draco had nearly cackled with delight (for he knew that at that time, Harry had no idea what a 'wand' could stand for) .

Draco allowed himself a rare full-blown demonic grin at the memory.

A few seconds later, Draco realized that someone was outside the door. Footsteps had stopped, and two sneakers could be seen under the door. Draco smiled. Harry was here.

The graceful Slytherin rose and crossed the room to the door, reaching forward and turning the knob that would allow him to see his beloved. He pulled open the door, meeting Harry's eyes.

Which were stunned. And horrified. If Draco looked hard enough, he could even see some of that good old Gryffindor mortification.

A blonde eyebrow arched. _Now_ what was Harry thinking about? "Come in, Potter." He stepped aside for the mortified Gryffindor to enter.

Harry numbly followed orders, his mind blank. As he walked by Draco he paused, lifting his head up to stare at the taller Seeker. "Malfoy..."

The other eyebrow followed its twin. "Yes?"

"You know Justin Finch-Fletchley, right?..."

_Unfortunately... _"Yes..."

"...And he's gay, right?..."

_He knows?! _"Yes, I believe so."

"...Does he like me?"

_..._ "..."

A long pause. "Erm... Malfoy?"

"Yes. He likes you."

"Oh." Another lengthy pause. "Okay."

Draco had to clench his fist to make sure he didn't ram it into the wall. His voice stayed calm. "Why do you ask, Potter?"

"Oh, um..." Here the slim Seeker blushed. Draco's eye twitched.

"What, do you like him back?"

Emerald eyes snapped up to meet his silver ones. "W-what?!"

Draco was allowed a small sense of relief. The shock was too real. His miniature sides (Horny-Angel!Draco and Horny-Devil!Draco) did a little jig. "I said, do you like him back?"

"No!"

"Then why do you ask?"

"Because... erm..."

Sigh. Gryffindors. "Is this about that Prefect meeting."

Bottle-green eyes snapped up to meet his again. "Erp."

"I thought so. He's nothing but a horny bastard, Harry, don't worry about him. Now, I need to discuss a few things with you."

"Ah... all right..." Harry could only blink (several times in fact) as he was led from the doorway to Draco's bed.

The more Slytherin side of his brain (Devil!Harry) perked up. "Oooh, look! He wants to shag Harry!"

Angel!Harry popped up and tapped Devil!Harry's shoulder. "Ahem. Harry's not supposed to know that his subconscious desires Draco until he goes to sleep tonight."

Devil!Harry blinked. "Oooh, that's right!" He pumped a tiny fist into the air of Harry's head. "We get to imagine ourselves getting excessively shagged by hot, _hot Draco tonight!"_

Angel!Harry cackled, hijacked Devil!Harry, and ran off to plan tonight's dream.

Fortunately, unlike a lot of Hogwarts' students (and faculty), Harry wasn't in tune with the voices in his head, and so missed the conversation entirely.

~*~

"Aaaauuugghh!"

Harry sat straight up in bed, panting slightly. He shuddered as the remnants of the dream flittered through his mind and hugged his knees to his chest. "Oooh," the Seeker moaned into his knees, "Not that stupid Sirius shags Snape dream again... I don't know if I can take it anymore..."

A gentle hand touched his shoulder then. Harry jumped a good seventeen centimeters off the bed in fright. He whirled around and found himself face to face with his Slytherin adversary, Draco Malfoy.

Malf—no, _Draco smiled reassuringly at him. That was all it took._

Harry wondered what thoughts were going through Draco's mind as the Slytherin found his arms full of a shaking Harry Potter. Gently, the taller boy lowered the two to the bed, softly stroking Harry's back and whispering comfort into the smaller boy's ear.

Harry soon felt his shaking fade, leaving him feeling warm wherever Draco touched him, and goose-pimply where he didn't. He looked up into silver eyes. Immediately he felt faint at the sheer emotion expressed in the stormy orbs.

"Draco..." he managed weakly.

The blonde smiled at him, then leaned down to kiss him.

Harry was sure he gasped when the other's lips met his. Surely this had to be a dream. But in his dreams, when the Slytherin touched him like this, he always woke up screaming... and Harry surely wasn't screaming now. A tongue slipped into his mouth, and suddenly, he was on his back, Draco straddling him and gently pinning his arms to the pillow. A ghostly hand traced down his side. Those soft, warm lips were still on his, and he was beginning to feel something pressing into his thigh, something that made his heart flutter...

~*~

And Harry woke with a gasp, his dark hair matted against his forehead with sweat. The young Seeker pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Oh, lord," he breathed, green eyes staring at nothing, "Did I just have a wet dream about Malfoy?"

The ache between his legs told him yes. And Harry, unable to process anything else, wished to himself that he hadn't woken up.


	4. The Train Ride Cliché and the Welcoming ...

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 4 : The Train Ride Cliché (And the Welcoming Feast Cliché)**

~*~

When Harry woke, he was moaning. Not from the usual Voldie nightmare, but from something far worse – his new line of Draco Wet Dreams.

Last night's Draco Wet Dream had featured the ever-lovely Harry handcuffed to a bed at the ever-sexy Draco's tongue's mercy.

Harry gasped and shuddered, but not from revulsion.

He was very fortunate that he had thought to ask for a silencing spell on his room. Draco had raised an eyebrow at the request but had kept from commenting. Harry didn't think he could handle it if the object of his dreams had heard his name being cried out in...something-definitely-not-fear.

Harry took a few moments for his breathing to calm down. He was suddenly aware of the fierce aching between his legs, and of the knocking at the door.

_Shit!_

He leapt out of bed and dove for the bathroom – it wouldn't do him any good for Draco to see him in only his red shorts with a tent stretching a mile long – just as the door opened. Harry quickly slammed the bathroom door shut, breathing a sigh of relief.

Draco's voice came from the other side of the door. "Harry? Are you okay?" Harry thought he could detect mild concern, as well as a bit of breathlessness. _Strange... why would he be breathless?_

A few seconds ticked past, and Harry realized that he hadn't answered. _Oops. "Yeah, I'm fine, Draco. Bad dream and all." _Well, not bad at all, actually it was quite good – _"Did you sleep well?" __I did! Well, as well as one can sleep with images of Draco's tongue down one's throat – "Aren't we leaving for the train today?" _Didn't my dream start with being alone in a compartment with him? Oh, crap! What if this dream comes true too, like the Voldemort dreams? Ahhhhh!__

While Harry was mentally freaking out, Draco was trying not to rush the door and jump the boy on the other side.

After Harry had gone upstairs, he had had a word with Tom, who knew all about Draco having to keep an eye on Harry, and had asked him to extend the silencing charm over both of their rooms as a whole unit, so that he would be able to hear what went on in Harry's room, without Harry's privacy being violated by outsiders.

Draco didn't consider himself an outsider.

It was in the early morning when Draco had woken to muffled moans. Knowing immediately who was making them, Draco had run for Harry's room, using his extra key to get into it and save the Boy Who Lived from whatever was attacking him.

Upon rushing into the room, Draco had frozen. On the bed was a sleeping Harry, crying out passionately, with his hands wrapped around a hardness Draco had only seen in dreams, and a few times in the Quidditch showers.

_Oh. My. GODS._

Quickly realizing that if he didn't leave that instant he would ravage the oblivious Gryffindor, Draco left, locked the door behind him and hightailed it back to his room. After throwing himself on his bed and staring blankly at the ceiling, Draco was hit with the realization of exactly what Harry was doing. His body reacted accordingly, and soon Draco was moaning himself, albeit more quietly than Harry.

After Draco had finished showering and dressing, he had heard the moaning stop for good. The following silence was quickly interrupted by a gasp, and then harsh breathing. Harry had woken up. Thus, Draco had left the room to face his unrequited love.

When Harry hadn't answered to his knocking, he had unlocked the door and walked right in, only to see the bathroom door slam shut. Apparently, Harry was embarrassed by his release, or still needed to release. Draco licked his lips. _I could help him if it was the latter... His breathing sped up slightly at the image that thought provoked._

Then Draco had to smile at Harry's attempt at conversation and flimsy excuse for why he was freaking out. _Oh, Harry..._ "I slept fine, Harry, and yes, we are leaving in an hour. It is eight right now. When you have showered and dressed, we will eat breakfast and leave. Is that all right?"

"Yeah, um, I guess. Want to eat in here or in your room? I don't mind either way." Harry still sounded dubious and bothered. 

Draco mentally snorted. _Hot and bothered is more like it. Poor love. I wonder... who was he dreaming about? _"Either is fine. How about my room, then? Come in when you finish getting ready."

On the other side of the door, Harry sighed with relief. He nodded to Draco's words, then foolishly remembered that Draco couldn't see him. "Sure. Give me twenty minutes, okay?" _Or join me in my shower... ack! No! Bad Harry! No more perverted thoughts! What would Ron say? _A mental image of Ron's reaction at the prospect of Malfoy looking like anything other than an ugly git served to empty Harry's mind of all perverted thoughts of Draco.

Draco's smooth baritone answered him calmly. "All right. I'll see you then." Footsteps, and then the door shut, leaving Harry alone.

The youngest Seeker in a century slouched against the door, a long sigh escaping him. "Ron's going to kill me."

Hiding in the bedroom, the canary had to agree.

~*~

Twenty-five minutes later, Harry stood outside Draco's room. And he was fidgeting. His mind ran through the train of thoughts he had had in the shower.

_Why am I having dreams about him? And THOSE dreams, at that? Do I like him? Does he like _me_? I haven't really liked anyone since Cho left... Hermione's stuck up on Ron, I already tried a relationship with Ginny and that didn't work, Lavender's with Dean last I checked, and none of the other girls really appeal to me. Neither do guys, for that matter. Seamus is cute, though. Too bad he's busy shagging everyone in the school. Justin was always nice to me, though, especially after we had that... really weird... detention together... Blaise Zabini is okay, but you never heard me say that. Or think that. Erm. Whom am I talking to again?_

Before Harry could wonder if he really _was_ insane, the door in front of him swung open, revealing a tall blonde with gray-silver eyes. Harry's gaze was drawn to those eyes.

Cold. Stormy. Specks of blue and green. Even a hint of gold. Shimmering. Icy. _Oh, Merlin, Harry thought frantically. __I am obsessing over Draco Malfoy's eyes. First legs, then eyes. What next, his arse??_

In front of him, Draco raised an eyebrow and leaned against the doorway. "Something on your mind, Potter?"

Harry's eyes snapped guiltily away from their increasingly thorough oglation of Draco's lovely eyes. He shifted his weight to his other foot then back again, absently hoping for Voldemort to swoop in and _Avada Kedavra him now. He mumbled an apology and squeezed past the Slytherin, holding back a cringe as his hip brushed Draco's leg. __I am out of my mind._

~*~__

Draco mentally sighed as he watched Harry nervously sit down. Poor boy was terrified. Maybe it was fear of his... dream... being discovered? Draco wasn't sure.

Swiftly he followed his guest's example. The meal was already set out, hot and steaming and ready for them to eat. Draco gestured for Harry to begin before doing so himself. They began to eat in an awkward silence.

Not ten long and uncomfortable minutes had passed before Harry suddenly put his silverware down. "I can't do this anymore," the black-haired youth stated, looking as if his death warrant had been signed. Draco was taken aback.

"What do you mean? Are you all right?"

"No," Harry said miserably. "How can I be all right when I'm having wet dreams about someone I'm NOT supposed to have wet dreams about? The Boy Who Lived isn't supposed to dream about _boys_!" The Gryffindor pulled his legs up into his chair, curling up and burying his head in his arms.

Draco sat shocked. He had figured Harry was having a dream about the female Weasley, or even Hermione – maybe even that Ravenclaw he liked last year. Never a boy.

"A... boy?" he asked faintly, just to make sure he had heard correctly.

~*~

Harry froze. _Oh, shit._ "Erm."

~*~

Draco could scarcely believe it. His Harry, gay? The possibility was lesser than Voldemort sprouting daisies out of his ears...

~*~

Somewhere, the location of which we will never know, Salazar's heir lurked. Another meeting with the Death Eaters had passed, and Tom was ready to _Avada Kedavra the whole lot of them. The Dark Lord stalked to a mirror, glaring at his pale face and red eyes. "I used to be so lovely," You-Know-Who sighed. "Then that damn boy nearly killed me, and I come back looking like __this," the snake-like man waved a hand at his pallid reflection, "like a _vampire! _And it doesn't help a bit that Potter looks remarkably like I did when I was young."_

He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named paused, studying his reflection some more. Absently he tapped his wand against his chin. "I need some color," he decided. With a flourish the leader of the Death Eaters raised his wand and brought it down, bellowing a spell that would give him some color.

What Voldemort got was daisies sprouting out of his ears.

A scream echoed through the land, causing magical creatures, spies, and faithful Death Eaters to flee for their safety.

"AAAAUUUGGHH!"

~*~

Harry wished he could throw himself into a hole. A deep, dark hole. A hole preferably filled with Death Eaters and/or dragons and/or Professor Snape. He wanted his death to be quick.

Then again, skip Professor Snape. The man lived for torture.

~*~

Horny-Devil!Draco popped up, smirking widely. "Yes!" the tiny Slytherin demon crowed, jumping up and down in ecstasy. Or soon-to-be ecstasy.

Once-Horny-But-Now-Rather-Innocent-Angel!Draco crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at his leatherified counterpart. "Pervert," he muttered, wishing they could focus more on the ROMANCE aspect of the relationship. Damn hormonal teenagers.

~*~

Angel!Harry was banging his head against the wall. Devil!Harry was right beside him, doing the same thing. The two muttered in unison,

"_Shit."_

~*~

Somewhere, a canary attempted to raise an eyebrow, before realizing that canaries didn't _have eyebrows and therefore a canary could not succeed in raising one. No matter how many times they drew in a raised eyebrow._

(Later in the story, the canary would roll its beady little eyes at some Ministry officials before shoving its marker into the bulbless electrical fixture beside him -- the spell having put it there moments before -- which resulted in the stupid bird being electrocuted, thus ending the Reign of the Evil Canary -- at least for a few chapters.)

~*~

Draco cleared his throat, absently pushing the Harry Potter Glasses (trust me, they exist) up his nose before glancing at a notepad. "So you are upset because you are having dreams about a boy... Mr. Potter, is it?"

Stretched out on the divan was Harry Potter, looking lovely in a pair of leather pants he had procured from Sirius on his birthday and a deep blue shirt that looked a bit short. (Not that anyone minded.) His glasses were off and sitting on a table beside his divan. Harry was staring at the ceiling in a way somewhat reminiscent of the ever-popular My-Entire-World-Has-Turned-Upside-Down-Because-I-Got-Caught-With-My-Hand-In-The-Proverbial-Cookie-Jar look that nearly all children and most adults have had on at least once in the past six months -- most often, it wasn't the Proverbial Cookie Jar in which their hand was when they were caught, but rather something like Mommy's Make-Up Bag or Daddy's Tool Kit (or, for the more raunchy teens and adults, Brother's Dirty Magazine Collection).

But I digress.

For some reason that Harry and Draco couldn't possibly fathom at the moment, the room had transformed into a therapist's office, complete with divan. Draco was the therapist, and Harry was the disturbed patient with more problems than hairs on Albus Dumbledore's chin, so to speak.

Both boys had blinked at each other and down at their respective places before someone called out from outside, "Sorry, everyone! Wayward spell!"

The Leaky Cauldron's customers as a whole sighed, rolled their eyes, and watched with amusement as Ministry officials rushed to fix the Muggles' various scenarios and offer some quick (and reliable!) Memory Charms. Most of the customers turned back to their meals/showers/snogs/papers after a moment or two.

Draco had decided immediately that he was going to use this to help Harry with his... er, problem.

Harry had decided immediately that he was never going to tell Hermione about this.

"Harry's fine. And yes. I never thought that I'd like guys. Girls have plenty of interest for me. But, I suppose from looking back at the years, I very well _could have been gay without realizing it. But... I like girls, still. What does that make me?"_

"Bisexual."

"Oh. That's right."

"While we're talking about it, who did you dream about, Harry? How did you know it was a boy?"

"...Erm."

"Don't worry, Harry, it's just us two. If it's any comfort to you, there's a silencing spell around the room."

"Um."

"Was it that bad?"

"Squa—" A bird's yelp was suddenly cut off by an unknown source. Harry and Draco blinked as the electricity flickered for a moment. For some reason, it suddenly smelled like smoke.

Outside, a rather queasy Ministry official fainted at the sight of a canary hanging from a Muggle light fixture, two small x's replacing its beady eyes.

Back inside the therapist's room, Harry was answering Draco's question. "It, well... the dream wasn't bad. Oh Merlin no, the dream was great! But... the person..." Harry looked away, refusing to meet Draco's eyes.

Said silver orbs widened a bit. _Oh, shit, it's Weasley._ "Was the person... close to you? A friend, perhaps?"

Harry shook his head in the negative firmly. "No. I barely know this person." _Well, that's true. But Draco doesn't need to know that._

_Not Weasley, then. Must be a different House, if Harry doesn't know them well._ "A Hufflepuff, perhaps?"

Harry suddenly realized that if Draco continued, he would fast find out exactly _who_ Harry had dreamed about. Which Harry did NOT want happening. The slim youth turned around, looking at Draco with soft eyes. "I'm really sorry, Fe—er, Mal—er. Damn. What _do I call you?"_

Draco had to pinch his leg rather roughly so that the look in Harry's eyes wouldn't force him to, oh, jump the boy. "Draco will do just fine."

"All right... I'm really sorry, Draco, but I don't think I can talk to you about this. It's very personal, and I don't think I can share it with anyone right now. I'm sorry."

Draco felt slightly disappointed. But he didn't mind it. He didn't really expect Harry to open up and tell his life story on only the third day. "That's all right, Harry."

Harry smiled gratefully at the taller teen. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Suddenly, the room reverted to the way it was. Harry and Draco found themselves back in their chairs. Draco was still holding a knife and a piece of toast. Quickly he put the items down, assuming his usual cool and suave air.

"Right. Are you done eating, Harry?"

Harry glanced at his still mostly full plate. "I suppose so."

"Then it's time to go."

Harry stared at Draco for a moment before slowly nodding. "Yes, I suppose it is."

~*~

Harry pulled the door shut to the black car as he slid into his seat beside Draco. Reaching behind him, he grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it on, buckling it and glancing over at Draco, who was watching him quietly. "Ready to go?" the blonde asked.

Harry smiled slightly at him, nodding. Draco smiled back before driving off.

~*~

They pulled into the station at about ten-thirty. Draco pulled the car to an easy stop, shut off the power, and leaned back with a sigh. "Good time, wouldn't you say?"

Harry made a noncommittal noise as he stared out the windows at the passing Muggles. When he spoke, his voice was hesitant. "Draco..."

The slim Slytherin glanced over at his passenger, lowering his arms from a stretch. "Hmm?"

"How are we to treat each other at school?"

Draco blinked. He hadn't expected that. Well, he had expected to tell Harry the answer, but he hadn't expected Harry thinking of the question himself. Hmm. Showed how much he knew. "Well..." he started, then paused deliberately, a crafty smile spreading over his lips.

Harry recognized the tone of voice immediately. Malfoy was up to something. Slowly he turned to look his Slytherin counterpart in the eye. "What?" he demanded, scowling.

Draco laughed at the face. "Well, Potter, as it so happens, when this whole mess started, I had a request granted by my father. Instead of torturing the Boy Who Lived in his final year at Hogwarts, 'Which he won't be surviving anyway,' to quote the great Lucius Malfoy, I shall spend my time studying and working towards mastering my N.E.W.T.s. I must be rude to you occasionally so that the others don't think I'm losing my touch, but for the most part..." he trailed off, his smirk widening.

Harry's eyes widened. For a long moment, he just stared at Draco. "So... you're not going to make my life a living hell?"

Draco shook his head, the smirk unknowingly turning into a smile. "No, I won't."

Slow joy spread over the tanned face of the Boy Who Lived. Then suddenly the joy vanished, and Harry looked almost heartbroken. He turned his face away from Draco, sighing a bit. "I guess this means we won't be able to talk to each other like this either."

Draco blinked, the smile fading in his confusion and concern. "You mean... you _like talking to me like this?"_

Unsure, but slowly a nod.

"Well..."

Harry looked back at him, green eyes bright with hope.

Draco caved in. "I'm Head Boy this year, Harry. I get my own room. If ever you feel like you want to talk, or you're lonely, or you need a good argument, come on down. I'll tell you where it is when they tell me, all right?"

The green eyes lit up. Harry smiled, feeling something in his chest relax and disappear from the tight knot it had been in. He then flushed, glancing at his lap, but still blushing. "It's probably strange for _me_ to want to spend time with _you..."_

Draco shook his head, absently smiling. "Perhaps. However, I get the feeling that a friendship between us would probably serve to help in the war against Lord Voldemort. Besides," here he lowered his voice, glancing downwards, "I rather like our conversations. Even if they are somewhat inane."

"Hey!"

Draco laughed. "Come on, Potter. Let's get out of here."

~*~

"Harry!"

Harry grinned and turned around, waving with a hand at the redhead and brunette who were running toward him. "Ron! Hermione! Hey!" he called, laughing as his two best friends struggled to beat each other in their race to meet him. Expectantly Harry opened his arms. Finally, he was seized by two people at the same time: Ron around his waist, Hermione around his neck. Smiling he hugged the two back, closing his eyes as the familiar voices flowed through his ears.

"_Harry! You should have __seen that Firebolt__, it was bloomin' gorgeous! Fred had to drag me by my hair to get me away from it, but I couldn't help it – it was so... so... you know! Too bad we missed you at breakfast, mate. Honestly, it was hell leaving even with only Ginny and the twins! You know Dad and Mum didn't come this time, they were absolutely _swamped_ with work, what with getting the new house ready for Charlie and his wife. Mum only let the twins come with us because they wanted to check up on their shop." _

Ron was slightly pushed away by Hermione, who immediately took over after his last word. "Oh, Harry! I wish we could have eaten breakfast together, but Ron forgot your room number and as it would be rather rude to go knocking on every door asking for Harry Potter, we didn't come to look for you. You don't mind too terribly, do you? And don't worry, we can talk all we want on the train, instead of being rudely interrupted by a certain Ronald Weasley who was so impatient to see the newest Firebolt that he'd abandon his own very handsome best friend."

_"Hermione!"_

Hermione smiled – rather evilly for her – and leaned up slightly to kiss Harry on the cheek. Harry was used to this by now, and was close enough to Hermione that he'd let her do this comfortably. On his other side, Ron started to sputter, then stopped, a smile blooming on his face as well.

"Hermione Granger! What is this? Are you cheating on me, young lady?" Ron joined in the joke, smirking now. The fervor of the moment got to him, and he leaned down, kissing Harry's other cheek. Harry felt a blush spread across his nose when some second-years looked at them strangely.

Hermione was obviously fighting laughter. "Oh? And you accuse me of such a thing when you yourself do _that_ to poor Harry? Ronald Weasley, I'm ashamed of you!"

Harry took this moment to become a temporary pacifist. "Now, now, you two! No need to fight! There's plenty of me to go around!" he exclaimed, grinning widely.

All three burst into laughter, causing smiles to bloom on the faces of the students and families around them. The three were well known for their close bond, and for some reason that knowledge gave hope in the dark times of the present.

Harry gave his best friends another hug before ducking out of their arms. "Come on, I've got a compartment saved. I have so much to tell you guys!"

Ron and Hermione smiled and, gathering their belongings, followed Harry onto the train for their last year at Hogwarts.

~*~

"You're _joking._"

"I can't say I am."

"You are bloody _joking._"

"Ron..."

Ron exploded. "_It's bloody Malfoy! _You cannot sit there and tell me that _bloody fucking Malfoy_ is on our side and was protecting you the whole time we were at Diagon Alley!"

"Well, not the whole time, while I was shopping and with you guys there were Aurors watching me instead –"

"But... but... _Malfoy!_ His father's a Death Eater, Harry!"

"That doesn't mean Draco is."

"Oh, and now you're calling him _Draco_?! Harry, I think we need to straighten out your priorities."

Hermione chose that moment to put her two pence in. "Ron! Harry's priorities are just fine! Be nice!" The two had a staring contest, which Hermione won, and Ron backed down. Hermione then turned to Harry. "Now, while I am hesitant to trust Malfoy of all people, I do trust you, Harry, and I trust your judgment. Do you really think he's on our side? What if he's faking the whole thing?"

Harry sighed, but he could understand where she was coming from. "I'm sure of it, 'Mione. He still has a lot of mysteries, and I'm not ready to fully trust him, but... I think he's sincere. Besides, he doesn't have the Dark Mark, and that's saying something, isn't it?"

Hermione blinked. "He doesn't have the Dark Mark? How do you know?"

Now Harry blushed. "Erm... well..."

"Oh, spit it out, Harry. We don't have all day."

_"Ron!"_ two voices cried at the same time.

"Sorry."

While Hermione hmphed and glared at the redhead, Harry sighed in exasperation. "He was wearing Muggle clothes when he first came to the Dursleys' house. His shirt was short-sleeved. I even asked an Auror to remove any Concealing Charms. There were none. He's not Marked."

Both Gryffindors stopped glaring at each other and turned to stare at him. "You asked an Auror to remove any Concealing Charms?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, for crying out loud! Hermione, must you repeat everything I say?" The girl only smiled at him. "Argh! Fine. He was in the same store as me at one time, and one of the Aurors approached me and verified who he was. He knew about Draco's assignment, but he wasn't sure about the whole Mark issue, so I suggested to him to see if Draco had on any Concealing Charms."

"But, Harry..."

Sigh. "What, Hermione?"

"To ask and to suggest are two different things entirely."

_"Hermione!"_

~*~

For the next few hours, the trio discussed many things: Draco Malfoy, Quidditch, best estimate as to how long the new DADA teacher would last, who Seamus would try to shag first, you know, the usual...

Friends dropped in on them all throughout the ride. Seamus, Dean and Neville stopped by after the trolley had passed, and after Ginny had joined them, the seven played a rousing game of Exploding Snap. Dean even challenged Ron to a chess game when that ended, leaving Harry and Hermione to put up with a hyper Seamus while Ginny and Neville giggled to each other in the corner. All in all, it was a pleasant ride.

Of course, the pleasantry had to end. For most, anyways.

Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini stopped in on them a couple hours before they reached Hogwarts. When the door slid open and the infamous Malfoy and Zabini stepped into the compartment, all pairs of eyes widened, several hackles raised, and one heart leapt in an unfamiliar emotion.

Mild words were exchanged, threats were issued, and a fight nearly ensued, had Harry not grabbed Ron at the last moment, shooting a look to Draco. Draco took the look for what it was and left, Blaise following him out.

Harry caught the looks Ron and Hermione were giving him. He sighed. Once he was left alone with the two, they'd dissect him over and over again until he told them the whole truth.

Harry was doomed.

~*~

Finally, the train pulled into the station, the first years were sent across the lake, the other students were shoved into carriages and trolled off to the castle, the student body sat down in the Great Hall, the first years were sorted, Dumbledore made announcements, and food appeared on the plates.

In the middle of the Welcoming Feast, Harry looked away from his friends' chatter and let his eyes pass over the Hall. There was a slightly solemn air over all the tables, but all of the students seemed glad to be back, even the Slytherins. Harry searched the Slytherin table for the familiar blonde head he knew so well from years past.

Something moved, and suddenly Harry was gazing into silver eyes from across the Great Hall. The two held their gaze for as long as they could. When a student stood and walked between the two, Harry was startled from the daze he had sunk into when staring into Draco's eyes. Harry looked down at his lap quickly, feeling his face heat up.

He didn't look up for the rest of the feast, but he knew that those eyes were still on him. Somehow, he knew.

~*~

In that same somewhere, the location of which we still won't know, Voldemort glared at his top Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy.

"What do you _mean,_ you can't get rid of the spell?" he hissed dangerously, glaring death at his subordinate.

Lucius swallowed, hoping Voldemort wouldn't _Crucio him. "For some reason, no one can break the power of the spell you placed on yourself. I suppose it was because you're so much more powerful than us..."_

Voldemort's eye twitched. "So you're saying I need a wizard of equal power to me who will take the spell off."

"Erm, yes, my Lord."

There was a long pause. "I see. You are dismissed."

Voldemort could think of only two wizards powerful enough to help him. He sighed, automatically ruling out the first. However, the second...

~*~

That night, Albus Dumbledore got the laugh of his life when he found the floating head of Voldemort with daisies sprouting out of its ears in his fireplace.

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	5. The Prefect Meeting Cliché

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 5 : The Prefect Meeting Cliché**

~*~

When Harry awoke the next morning, he felt very sore. And annoyed. For poking at his shoulder was none other than the as-tall-as-him-if-not-a-centimeter-more-and-always-teasing-him-about-it Hermione Granger, Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, class of 1998. Muttering under his breath Harry grabbed his pillow and swatted it in the general direction of the brown-haired girl, making a distinctly warning sound in that same general direction. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately for 'Deadly Headly' Hermione (as deemed by the seventh-year Gryffindor boys), Harry aimed in the wrong direction and thus missed.

"_Harry!" the prodigal Gryffindor hissed, glaring down at her charge. She kept her voice low, knowing it was early. "The Prefects meeting is in thirty minutes, Harry! Get up!"_

A growl was her only answer. Hermione muttered under her breath. "Quidditch is canceled."

Harry Potter sat straight up, glaring dull daggers at his best friend (for he was half-blind, you see!). "You're going to pay for that."

Hermione smiled tightly. "So are you."

They glowered at each other for a full seventy-two seconds; then suddenly, the tension broke and both were laughing quietly. "Still aren't breaking tradition, are we, 'Mione?" smiled Harry, climbing out of bed and reaching for his glasses.

Hermione shook her head, offering a pretty smile in return. "Not on your life, Harry Potter. This is the best part of being a prefect – getting to see you attempt murder with a pillow and occasionally that stuffed toy you keep in yo—"

"_Hermione!"_

They both laughed. Hermione left to allow him privacy, and Harry grabbed some robes and ran for the bathroom.

~*~

What Harry was greeted with when he walked into the Prefects' Lounge was something that could aptly be described as bedlam.

Over the wildly chattering prefects, Heads of House, and the occasional ghost, Harry was able to find the seventh-year prefects (while stepping on tip-toes of course). He made his way over to them, smiling at the familiar faces as they all turned to greet him, most smiling, some not.

"Glad to see you finally made it," smirked Hermione.

"Oh, shut it, you," he shot back, grinning.

"Harry!" exclaimed a rather tall Justin Finch-Fletchley, who bounced over to Harry's side and seized his hand to shake it. "How are you? Haven't seen you since last year, didn't get a chance to see you at the train, arrived later than usual, you see – you're looking _fine this year, Harry, have you been working out?"_

Harry couldn't help but blush under the attention. Beside him, Hermione held back laughter, and over Justin's shoulder, he could see Draco watching them will cool regard. After shooting a glare at Hermione, Harry smiled back at Justin. "Not any more than usual, I'm afraid. What about you, Justin? You seem to have added quite a few inches over the summer."

Justin beamed, his dark curls falling around his ears. "Glad you noticed! I was rather pleased myself, didn't want to spend all my time being the same height as Susan, you know." He paused, glancing between Hermione and Harry and noticing their similar heights, and belatedly realized that this was not the right thing to say, as Harry had startled bristling the moment Hermione had laughed.

Fortunately, Dumbledore chose that moment to call for their attention. A general shuffling for the oval table ensued, resulting in twenty-nine seats being filled. On one side, sat Dumbledore and the four heads of Houses around him: McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick. On the other side, sat the Head Boy and Girl, with the seventh-year prefects around them. Between the seventh-years and the heads sat the rest of the prefects. 

Draco side-by-side with Hermione. On his right, to his delight, was Harry; to his chagrin, however, Justin was on the other side of Harry. Terry Boot sat beside Justin. After Hermione were Susan Bones, Padma Patil, and Pansy Parkinson.

It would prove to be a very... interesting meeting.

Dumbledore stood and beamed at them all, blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon glasses. "Welcome all, to another year at Hogwarts, new and old. You have been chosen from those in your year, House, and gender for your exceptional grades and respectful behavior. All of you should have a list of the rules, as well as guidelines to point awards, point deductions, and punishments. Has anyone lost theirs?" Nobody raised their hand. Dumbledore went on. 

"This year, our Head Boy is Draco Malfoy, and our Head Girl Hermione Granger." He paused as everyone looked to where the two sat, many smiling at the picture the seventh-years made. When the Headmaster had everyone's attention again, he continued.

"As you all know, a new class will be starting this year. Headed by Madam Pomfrey, Magical Healing will be given to students who wish to learn to be a MediWizard, or to know basic healing charms and potions for upcoming battles. Already I know of three prefects in this class, as well as several others. I am pleased with the interest shown in the subject.

"This year we will be focusing more on friendly relations between Houses." A few students snorted. "Yes, I know this will be a delicate issue, Alex, but with Lord Voldemort," several students flinched at the name, "at large, we want to keep the relationships between Houses open and friendly. The ties between the students will be most valuable during an attack." There was a moment as students reflected upon this. Dumbledore smiled at his students. "Now, each of your heads of Houses would like to tell you what will be expected this year." He sat as McGonagall rose.

Draco immediately tuned McGonagall out, while mentally absorbing what she said. He let his mind wander, and of course his thoughts turned to the dark-haired boy next to him.

Harry, it seemed, was paying close attention to what the Deputy Headmistress was saying. Well, she was the Head of Gryffindor after all... Draco allowed himself to glance aside at Harry. Instead, over the head of dark waves, he met the light eyes of his Hufflepuff enemy. Immediately Draco's eyes narrowed into a dark glare with a clear warning – **Stay away from him.**

Finch-Fletchley responded in kind. **I can do what I want. Harry likes me.**

Draco. **You just want to fuck him.**

Justin. **And you don't?**

Draco. **That's not the matter at hand. _Stay away from him. He's mine._**

Justin. **Is not. He's _mine._**

Draco. **Mine.**

Justin. **Mine!**

Draco. **MINE.**

Justin. **MI--**

Harry. **Oh, my, is Draco staring at me?**

Draco & Justin. **_Shit._**

All three boys turned back with a start as Snape sat down and Dumbledore stood again. A stack of timetables appeared in front of each student. "You will give these out to the other students at breakfast today. Your own timetables are on top. Good luck with your classes! The next meeting will be this Sunday evening. See you then."

All the students knew a dismissal when they saw it. Draco quickly grabbed his timetables and stood, glaring at Justin as the Hufflepuff did the same. Draco laid a hand on Harry's shoulder a second before Justin claimed the other one.

"Harry –" they both started.

Harry himself started – by jumping slightly with a tiny 'eep'. Draco nearly melted; apparently, Justin had the same reaction. Harry looked up at the two with an endearingly cute look – _How come everything Harry does is cute?_ Draco asked himself – while the Slytherin and Hufflepuff at hand each forgot what he wanted to say.

"Yes?" Harry prompted.

Draco jumped in before Justin could recover from the Glazed Eyes State. "Could I speak with you outside, Potter?"

While Justin started to sputter silently at Draco, Harry smiled and stood as well. "Sure," he agreed, the green eyes bright. He turned to face Justin, who immediately lost all hints of sputter. "Did you want to talk to me as well, Justin?" he asked politely.

Justin smiled victoriously and leant forward, whispering something into Harry's ear. Draco heard it clearly – as well did Hermione, who was on the other side of the room. Justin was not known for being able to whisper. "Meet me in the Astronomy Tower tonight, okay?"

Harry seemed to chew on this for a moment, then smiled and agreed. Shooting a triumphant grin at Draco, Justin sauntered out. Draco fought to roll his eyes. His hand slid off Harry's shoulder to the small of his back. "Come on, Potter. Mustn't keep the hall waiting."

Harry actually laughed. "Right, Malfoy. I'm sure it's _dying to see us."_

Draco smiled to himself. At least Harry's spirits were still up.

~*~

Once in the hall, Draco led Harry away from the curiously watching crowd and into an empty classroom. He shut the door behind him and turned to look at the slim Gryffindor. "You really shouldn't have done that, Harry."

"What?"

"Agreed to meet Finch-Fletchley."

Harry blinked. "Why not? It's not like he's going to assault me or anything."

Draco winced at the choice of words. "In fact, Harry, I think that's exactly what he'll try to do."

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh..."

"Yes."

"...Will you come with me, then?"

Draco had to pause at those words, disbelieving his ears. An image of Naked!Harry flashed through his mind "...Pardon?"

"I asked if you would go with me to meet him."

"Oh, of course. Yes, I suppose I will." On his shoulder, Devil!Draco whooped and cackled, while Angel!Draco cheered. "How will you explain to him my being there?"

"Well, er... hmm."

"That's what I thought. How about we got dared to spend all of our spare time together?"

"By whom?"

"Zabini."

"Ah. That works."

"Right."

"Well then, see you in... Potions?"

"See you then." A slight smile. "Have a good day, Harry."

A bit larger smile in return. "You too, Draco."

~*~

There are three things every Hogwarts student knows are sure and true in life: Professor Snape will take points from all Houses other than Slytherin, especially Gryffindor, for no apparent reason whatsoever; if you put a Gryffindor and a Slytherin in a room together alone for an infinite amount of time, one or both will come out (a) missing a body part, (b) mortally wounded, (c) dead, and/or (d) shagged/snogged; and Harry Potter doesn't flirt.

The last was the most popular topic of gossip for giggling girls and bashful boys. Every girl (and many a boy) hoped for Harry Potter to like them, but the seventh years, even Seamus Finnigan – who was well known for shagging anything that could carry a decent conversation ("Wanna shag?" "Sure.") – had attested to the Boy Who Lived's Lack of Flirtatious Traits that were normally found in the average Hogwarts boy.

Then again, Harry Potter was far from average. And those hopeful boys and girls adored the shy, sweet way in which Harry approached people. Oh, Harry was far from shy – he WAS a Gryffindor – but Harry was inexperienced, therefore making him a tad insecure in matters of the heart.

For a while now, there had been a long-running betting pool as to whom the Boy Who Lived would choose as his, er, future partner. Oliver Wood, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy were the initial candidates for Harry's first year. Ginny Weasley and Justin Finch-Fletchley were added in second, Cho Chang in third, Ron Weasley and Parvati Patil in fourth, and so on and so forth. Hermione Granger had always been among the top pools, along with Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley. Justin Finch-Fletchley's pool took a leap up when the Prefect Meeting Incident occurred, but Ginny Weasley's was emptied and distributed at the end of sixth after the quiet break-up. (However, some loyal Harry/Ginny-ites still remained, and were plotting an event to increase their odds.) Now, Draco Malfoy's pool was starting to revive after that horrible Fourth Year Train Incident had made rounds in gossip.

Harry Potter himself had no idea that the Gambling Sect of the Hogwarts Underbelly was centered on him, nor did he have any idea that either a Gambling Sect or a Hogwarts Underbelly existed. About 65% of the school did, however, including Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Fortunately, both, like many others, had sworn never to tell Harry.

Seamus Finnigan, newly elected head of the Gambling Sect, looked up from making a deal with a fourth year (Harry/Draco, but either of the Weasleys would stake a claim on Harry, marking a bitter war between Malfoy and Weasley) as he heard someone call his name. Seeing who had called it, Seamus' face broke into a grin. He sent the fourth year off and journeyed over to his seeker.

"Harry, love! Have you finally realized your eternal love for me?" the Irishman cooed, slinging an arm around Harry Potter's shoulders. Said Seeker shot him an amused look while the Gryffindors eating around them looked up with smirks on their faces.

"Not today, Seam. I have your time-table here." The dark-haired Gryffindor smiled, waving a card in Seamus' face. He was used to the other boy's antics by now.

Seamus took the offending piece of parchment from Harry and let his eyes roam over his new schedule. "Damn. Double Potions with Slytherin first thing again on Mondays."

"I know. And last on Fridays. They _want_ us to kill each other, it seems."

"You know it. So, who are you taking to the Halloween dance?" A blank green stare met his own. "What?! Incomprehension?! Harry Potter! I'll have you know you can break many a heart of lasses and blokes everywhere with your uninformed mind!"

Harry laughed. "I probably won't take anyone, Seamus. You know I don't have time for a girlfriend or a boyfriend."

Seamus put a hand to his heart in mock hurt. "Thou hast wounded my soul, Harry! Will the great Harry Potter not deem the humble Seamus Finnigan worthy of leading his hand? Thou hast wounded me!" he exclaimed, pulling his arm from Harry's neck, dropping to his one knee, and taking the other Gryffindor's hand to kiss it.

Above him, Harry sighed. "Get up, Seamus." Harry looked around uncertainly, blushing a bit to the amusement of the small audience they had. "Seamus..."

Seamus laughed, standing and pulling Harry's hand up with him. He pressed his lips to the golden knuckles, his warm green eyes locked with Harry's own. "Fear not, sweet love, for I would never let you go unescorted to such an important social event."

Harry smiled and pulled his hand away. "Right," he said with the air of one on a mission, "while you find me a partner, I'll inform the first years you really _aren't_ Romeo." Several disappointed moans met their ears. Both boys slowly grinned.

Harry looked up at Seamus earnestly. "Promise me thou wilt return."

Seamus took Harry's hand again, raising it to his lips. "Love, by yonder blessed moon I swear that tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops –"

Harry shook his head, his voice turning passionate. "Oh, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable," he ended in a soft voice, looking a bit doubtful.

Seamus looked a bit perplexed, but still determined. "What shall I swear by?"

Harry smiled. "Do not swear at all; or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, which is the god of my idolatry, and I'll believe thee."

Seamus smiled back. "If my heart's dear love –"

Harry interrupted him again, fickle in the whole swearing business. "Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract tonight – it is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; too like the lightning, which doth cease to be ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, may prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest come to thy heart as that within my breast!" Harry finished in a passionate flare, pulling Seamus' hand to his chest with his captive hand.

Seamus' eyebrows rose, and he absently caressed Harry's chest. "O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" he whispered.

Harry tilted his head to the side. "What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?"

"The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine."

Harry smiled. "I gave thee mine before thou didst request it – and yet I would it were to give again."

Seamus clasped Harry's hands tightly, gently. "Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?"

Harry moved closer to Seamus. "But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have – my bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." They heard someone calling Harry's name, as if on cue. Harry gasped, half-turning. "I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! Anon, Ron! Sweet Finnigan, be true. Stay but a little, I will come again." He pulled his hands from Seamus' and stepped away, waving at Ron.

Seamus sighed, touching his fingers to his lips and closing his eyes. "O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. Being in night, all this is but a dream, too flattering-sweet to be substantial."

Harry returned to him, reaching up and touching his hands. "Three words, dear Seamus, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honorable, thy purpose marriage, send me word tomorrow, by one that I'll procure to come to thee, where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; and all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay and follow thee my lord throughout the world."

To their right, they heard a scandalized voice shout, "Harry!"

Harry called back before turning to Seamus again, "I come, Ron. – But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee –"

"HARRY!" came Ron's yell.

"By and by, I come," Harry assured Ron, yet his attention was focused on Seamus. "To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief. Tomorrow will I send," Harry continued, looking anxiously at Seamus.

Seamus' eyebrows furrowed. "So thrive my soul –"

Harry realized that Ron was heading straight for them with harmful intent for Seamus. He panicked and jumped away, waving at Seamus. "A thousand times good night!" With that he ran to Ron.

Seamus, grinning under the death glare Ron was directing towards him, whispered aloud, "A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, but love from love, toward school with heavy looks."

His words faded into silence. Harry turned back to him, looking sad at departing with his love.

The entire Great Hall was silent, all eyes glued to the three figures at the front of the room. 

A pause.

And Seamus, Harry, and Ron joined hands and bowed to the entire student body.

Another pause.

And tumultuous applause suddenly sounded, as the students and teachers stood and cheered their appreciation of Seamus and Harry's acting skills. Seamus grinned devilishly and, seizing Harry from under Ron's nose, pulled the Gryffindor into a dip, which received roars of approval. Harry laughed and even went so far as give Seamus a chaste kiss. This was met with chaos.

The two narrowly escaped as Ron caused a diversion with dungbombs and Hermione shoved them towards the exit. Seamus scooped Harry up and ran, Hermione not far behind him. They dodged a crowd of Slytherin third years and dived through the doors, all three laughing. A few moments later Ron appeared and slammed the doors behind him, taking a deep breath to calm his laughter.

Seamus snickered and sat up, Harry in his lap. Harry was trying to calm himself, but obviously failing, as he was giggling like there was no tomorrow. Seamus helped him along by rubbing his back, his own giggles fading.

Harry sagged against him, eyes closed and a smile on his lips as he finally stopped laughing. "We haven't done that in so long, Seam..."

Seamus grinned widely. "Much wider reaction than last time."

Ron rolled his eyes and helped Hermione up. "You can say that again."

"Much wider rea—"

"Seamus!"

"Well, you said!"

"Oh, Seamus..." Harry moved off Seamus' lap and leaned against the wall, sighing softly.

They sat there for a while, listening as the crowd in the Great Hall settled down.

"Think we can go in now?"

"Are you insane?"

"Why, yes, actually I am –"

"That's what I thought. No, Seamus, we cannot go in."

"Damn."

~*~

Fortunately, for Seamus' physical, mental, and psychological health, Draco was not at breakfast.

~*~

But that's not to say he didn't hear about the Romeo & Juliet Incident.

~*~

All Seamus should have been thankful for was that he didn't do ALL of the infamous balcony scene.

~*~

After classes (from which Seamus mysteriously disappeared, sometime between lunch and Care of Magical Creatures) Harry started for the Prefects' bathroom with intent on a long, relaxing bath. He only got as far as the second door past the statue of Boris the Bewildered before he was seized by a blonde and black hurricane that swept him up and zoomed down the hall to the Prefects bathroom, plowed through the almost terrified door, locked said door, and deposited the Gryffindor on the floor of the boys' Prefects' Bathroom.

Harry blinked away the dizziness that came with his abduction and craned his neck to look at his kidnapper. He blinked again before smiling.

"Oh, hi, Draco."

Draco had this fierce look in his stormy grey eyes, and it looked as if his left eye was twitching. Harry absently wondered how that was possible. "Potter. Are you going out with Finnigan?"

There was a long pause. Too long. Harry realized very belatedly that the pause was his fault. "Um."

"Yes."

"No?"

"Good."

"Malfoy..."

"Draco."

"Fine. Draco..."

"That's better. Someone told me that you acted out part of William Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet' in the Great Hall this morning."

"Um. I did."

"With Finnigan."

"Yes."

"..."

"Erm, Draco, why do you care?" Harry stood from the floor, absently rubbing his bum. "We were just playing."

"Which scene was it?"

"Um, I think it was act two, scene two."

Draco's eyes bulged mysteriously. "The balcony scene."

"Erm, yes, but we didn't do all of it."

"Which part did you do."

"From where Juliet asks Romeo to swear his love for her to when he's talking about boys and school books."

"I see."

"Right."

Silence.

"Do you like Seamus, Draco?"

"WHAT?!"

~*~

A few hours of arguing, a silent bath where Harry pondered the dance and Draco tried to control his libido – tried being the keyword, as he failed to keep his hand from reaching under Harry and squeezing at one point, at which Harry nearly squealed and rushed across the bath-pool in a sploosh of bubbles – and some plotting later, Harry and Draco stood in front of the door to the Astronomy Tower.

They were wearing handcuffs.

It was Blaise's idea and Ron's fault. Blaise decided he didn't want to live a lie and so actually dared the two, adding that they would have to wear handcuffs the entire night, dusk to dawn. Ron happened to amble in before Harry could say no and nearly cackled with glee at the idea. (Ron was not very fond of Justin Finch-Fletchley.) So without Ron by his side, and Blaise looking rather demonic in front of the fire, Harry couldn't help but say okay.

Funny, he didn't remember Draco complaining at any point...

Oh, well.

Glancing up at Draco one last time, Harry stepped forward and knocked.

A moment.

And suddenly the door flew open, a hand reached out and grabbed Draco, and Draco was yanked into the room with a cry of outrage.

Harry could only stare as Draco's cry was suddenly cut off by Justin's lips on Draco's. And the two were kissing.

Dimly Harry realized that _he_ was supposed to be the one Justin was kissing, but at this point...

And why did Draco have to look like he was enjoying it?

Harry felt a pout coming on as hands started to roam. He cleared his throat. This caused Draco's eyes to snap open and focus on him for a long moment, before the blonde broke the kiss with a sharp cry and shoved Justin away. But, no. Draco was not distressed by what had happened.

He was pissed off.

Thus, Harry was treated to the lovely view of Draco's back as Draco took aim of Justin with his wand and sent curse after curse at the frantically fleeing Hufflepuff, who very nearly looked like the yellow canary that had been stalking Harry most of the summer.

Finally, Harry, unable to take it all in at once, fell to the ground in helpless laughter.

~*~

Of course, at one point or another, chaos was forced to surrender to order in favor of fighting over Harry. After his fit had passed, Harry had calmed Draco enough to get the wand away – for a moment anyway, as Draco snatched it right back – and convince him not to kill Justin, who was hiding behind a sofa at the time. Then Harry had convinced Justin to come out (after making Draco swear on the grave of his beloved grandmother that he wouldn't kill Justin – today anyway).

Now all three were sitting against the wall, Harry in the middle. Over Harry's head two pairs of eyes, one dark, one light, had a fierce staring contest, while Harry gazed up at the stars in silence.

Finally, Harry broke the silence. "So, Justin, what did you want to see me for?"

Staring contest was aborted as the question made itself clear. Slytherin and Hufflepuff stared down at Gryffindor in wonder – then wondering of how in the world someone could be so DENSE.

Justin cleared his throat and leaned back, casually reaching out and taking Harry's hand. "I called _you_ here," making it clear that Draco wasn't welcome, "because I want to ask you out, Harry."

Silence.

"WHAT?!"

"..."

"You?! Date Potter? Ha! As if you could love him! All you want to do is fuck him to tomorrow –"

"Dra—er, Malfoy!"

"Well, it's true. I've seen the way he looks at you. He just wants to eat you up, like you were a candy of some sort –"

"Draco!!!" Harry didn't bother to correct himself this time.

"What?"

Harry sighed and turned to Justin, who was glaring daggers at Draco. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what Draco's talking ab --"

"He's right."

Harry barely caught himself before he freaked out at the words Justin muttered. Instead he scooted back a bit, into Draco. "Wha.. wha.. what??"

Justin sighed, looking away. "He's right. I do want you. I've wanted to be your first for a long time. I've wanted to make love to you, to hear you moan, to touch you, to protect you... for so long..."

Harry was shocked. Justin... wanted his body? "But..."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way, and I'll accept it if you want to hate me forever, but please... consider me." The tall Hufflepuff looked back at Harry with dark, sad eyes.

Harry felt a panic attack coming. "You... you... you..."

Justin blinked, looking worried. "Harry? Are you all right?" He leaned forward just a bit, as if wanting to comfort Harry.

Harry immediately peddled back into Draco's lap. He lifted his free hand and pointed it wildly at Justin. "You... you PERVERT!"

Justin, Draco, and Harry himself were all shocked by that word. Justin was shell-shocked that anyone would call _him_ a pervert, Draco was shocked that Harry _knew_ the word 'pervert,' and Harry was shocked for both of the said reasons. And so he started babbling.

"Oh, Justin, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that, I'm just, I mean, I thought that, I mean I suspected that you, and then that time at the meeting, and... you... want me...?"

Both of the taller boys stared.

Harry fidgeted, not realizing his location. "Sorry," he muttered, staring at the floor.

Justin sighed, pouting slightly. "It's all right, Harry. Don't worry about it."

Draco smirked from behind Harry's head, while Harry continued his deep perusal of the floor. Justin glared at Draco, who glared back.

The three sat there in an uncomfortable silence the next half hour or so.

~*~

Finally, Harry drifted off to sleep. Nestled in Draco's lap, his right side against Draco's chest, his knees slightly bent, his other hand clasped with Draco's, Harry had no idea of the picture he and Draco made. Draco was leaning against the wall, Justin a few feet away from him, while the stars twinkled above him. It was a lovely night.

Unfortunately, for Draco, apparently Justin had decided that clear nights were perfect for having heart-to-hearts.

"Malfoy."

"What?"

"Do you like Harry?"

"In what way?"

"Romantic."

"Is that any of your business?"

"No, it isn't, but it just seems..."

"That we're secretly a couple or something of that rot?"

"No, that... well, you two would be a very cute couple if you got together."

"I'm flattered."

"No, really, Malfoy. You would. It's like you two just... fit. Yin and yang."

"Yan and ying? What's that?"

"Yin and yang, Malfoy. It's a Chinese concept. You have two fish, one black, one white. One's the dark side of humanity, one's the light side. Yet the black fish has white eyes, and the white fish has black eyes. Meaning that darkness has a bit of light, and light has a bit of darkness. When the two fish intertwine, they create a perfect circle. Unity. They complete each other. They are not just parts, they are one." Justin lazily lifted his wand and muttered a spell, and a second later a yin-yang sign in black and white floated in the air before them. 

"Oh, _that_. The all-in-one belief. So, Harry and I are fish?" Draco sent a smirk at Justin, who rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean."

"I see. So you think that Harry and I complete each other?"

"Sure, why not? You are the black fish and he is the white. You are not completely dark in that you have compassion for others, and Harry is not completely light in the whole Dark Lord thing. He's attracted to the dark, you are attracted to the light. He is the light to keep you sane, and you are the dark that keeps him sane. It's just... you know. I can't really explain it."

"I think I understand, thanks."

"All right."

Silence reigned again. It was having a jolly time watching Discomfort and Bad Vibes duke it out on the floor before Justin interrupted its antics again.

"So _do_ you like him? Or do you want to shag him like I do?"

"I will not dignify that with an answer."

~*~

The three eventually got out of there. Justin left around one so that the other Hufflepuffs wouldn't miss him, and Draco picked Harry up and started carrying him toward Gryffindor Tower. Harry stirred a few times against him, mumbling things like "Lemelone" and "Don't call me _dummkopf_," the meanings of which Draco wasn't sure. He didn't mind it, though, because he was holding Harry.

If only this wasn't Hogwarts, and they weren't students... If only he could marry Harry and live happily ever after...

And if only Draco could find the courage to admit to Harry that he loved him.

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	6. The Random, Coincidental, and Entirely N...

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 6 : The Random, Coincidental, and Entirely Not Because of the Author's Lack of Imagination Meeting in the Hallway Cliché**

~*~

When Harry woke the next morning, he was very warm, happy, and safe. He was cuddled into another person's chest, his arms wrapped around that person's torso. Long arms were wrapped around his back, holding him tightly to a long, firm body, and long legs were intertwined with his own. He could feel soft breath on his neck. In addition to the warm body he was snuggling with, Harry and his bedmate were tucked in under the softest covers in the world.

Harry wasn't sure what had woken it up, and other from a twinge in his stomach he couldn't find any reason as to why he couldn't go back to sleep. But the twinge was keeping him awake, so Harry let himself lie beside his bedmate, enjoying the warmth and the safe feeling the embrace gave him.

Reality was dozing at the moment, so Harry was able to enjoy the long moments where he listened to his bedmate's heartbeat and counted the times his heartbeat matched that heartbeat.

When his bedmate stirred, groaned a little, and pulled back some to fix sleepy grey eyes – with specks of blue and green, making them look as if they fit in a sea-side portrait – on him, reality took that moment to wake up and say hello, nearly causing Harry to have a heart attack as he realized just _who his bedmate was:_

Draco Malfoy.

Harry fainted.

Or at least he tried to. Harry wasn't able to succeed with his melodramatic fainting act because his entire body was in shock.

So, instead, he stared.

Sleepy grey eyes became amused grey eyes, which then progressed to weary grey eyes and finally came to be worried grey eyes. Draco shifted, bringing a hand up to touch Harry's face. A deep voice sounded softly in Harry's ear, making his entire body shudder – from disgust or pleasure, he had no idea. "Harry, are you all right?"

_Oh, my._ That was the second time Harry had felt Draco's warm breath on his ear. He'd had an idea that his ears might have been an erogenous point for a little while now, ever since Seamus had had to lick it – although Harry was positive the Irishman wasn't unhappy about it – back in sixth year on a dare from Dean. Now, he was sure of it. _I wonder if Draco would lick my ear... ack! POTTER! Draco Malfoy does not equal sexual partner! Or sexually attractive! Or attractive at all!_

Harry closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, staring up at the aristocratic features and the mussed blonde hair falling over gentle grey eyes and the soft pink lips just _begged_ for him to kiss them...

_Oh, hell, who am I kidding?_

The thought propelled him into unconscious action, making Harry lean forward ever so slightly. To Harry's great surprise, Draco mimicked his actions. Harry barely realized what he was doing before he was suddenly aware of silk pressing just so against his lips.

_Holy shit. I'm kissing Draco Malfoy._

There was a single moment that lasted an eternity to Harry, and as if on cue, both parties moved at once. Harry jumped back in shock, and Draco leaned into the kiss to deepen it. Harry, having fallen backward, could not support Draco any longer, causing Draco to fall forward and onto Harry's slim body. Both boys made sounds of surprise that were cut off almost immediately when (quite by accident, I swear!) Draco's lips descended on Harry's, marking a deep kiss between the Gryffindor and the Slytherin.

_I'm kissing Harry... and it's heaven... wait, _thought Draco.

_Oh. My. God, _thought Harry.

Which lasted about seven seconds before both parties freaked out.

_I'M KISSING HARRY?! _thought Draco.__

_I'M KISSING MALFOY!_ thought Harry.

Both boys lurched back in shock, Harry even going as far as falling off the bed. (He and furniture didn't get along well, did they?) He landed on the floor with a pained cry, his head hitting the bed post. Draco, on the other hand, sat straight up, grey eyes wide with excitement and amazement. The blonde stared blankly at his hands for a moment, then peered over the side of the bed at Harry, who was holding his head and cringing. Draco paused for a moment, feeling something in him tighten at the pained look on Harry's face, before he leaned down and offered a hand to Harry.

"I'm sorry about that," he said quietly. "I had no right."

Harry immediately opened his eyes and stared up at Draco. He opened his mouth to speak, failed, and tried again. "You're... sorry? But..."

Draco blinked, hope rising in his chest. "But... what?"

"...It was mutual, wasn't it?" Harry asked in a quiet sort of voice. His mouth was on automatic; his mind was still focused on that kiss.

Draco could scarcely believe it. Harry liked the kiss?! "Mutual?" he asked intelligently.

"As in it was both of our faults."

"...Oh." The cold needle of reality popped Draco's red balloon of hope. "Right."

Harry sighed helplessly, glancing away, his fingers mindlessly running through the ridges in the soft plush carpet. "It wasn't a bad kiss, though... just unexpected. And I'm not _that _close with you yet, Malfoy."

"Draco," he corrected automatically, his mind whirling with these new developments. _Harry said 'yet.' Does that mean...?_

"Right. Sorry."

"Harry..." Draco started, before catching himself. He started getting angry. Not at Harry, but with himself. _Damn it, Harry is NEVER to find out your real feelings. You can't let yourself fall to pieces because you share one kiss. Even two. He didn't even want it, _his conscious piped up matter-of-factly. Draco sighed, knowing it was right. He shook his head and grabbed Harry's hand, hoisting the slim boy up and onto the bed. "Never mind it, Harry, what happened has happened and we can't change the past. It was an accident. Now, you need to be getting back to your room before someone notices you're missing."

It was then that Harry realized he wasn't in his dorm; in fact, he had never seen a room in Hogwarts such as this. He looked around the room with unease, squinting to make out details, his mind automatically pushing the kiss aside and focusing on the first non-Draco thing at hand; it was all he could manage at the moment. The décor was of deep greens and faded golds, making the mood subtly calm and easy-going. The bed he was sitting on was a queen-size, and had tables on either side. The room was lit by magic candles that brightened and dimmed on command -- Harry had seen such candles in a professor's office once. On the other side of the room were two armchairs in front of a lit fireplace, a table with a chessboard between them. A desk sat in front of the wall perpendicular to the fireplace's wall, the same wall as the bed, with a bookshelf behind it. Various scrolls and books sat on the desk along with a beautiful phoenix quill and two wands. There were three doors in the room: one across from the bed, one between the bed and the desk, and one opposite the latter. Harry only had an idea as to where each led.

His eyes were drawn back to the wands. One was his wand; the other was darker and longer than his own; an inch or two longer than a foot at best. Harry guessed it was Draco's.

He glanced back at said Slytherin, who was watching him with intense eyes. "Is this your room?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, it is," the other responded just as quietly.

"How did I get here?"

"I carried you."

"...What?" Harry was confused. Carried him? Had he passed out or something?

Draco was answering his question already. "You fell asleep while we were with Finch-Fletchley. I'd forgotten about the handcuffs when I took you to Gryffindor Tower, and so ensuring that I would live to see today instead of being killed at Weasley's hands I brought you here. As you may have noticed, the handcuffs have disappeared already. I didn't do anything to you except undressed you to a comfortable level," Harry quickly looked down to find that he was in his boxers and undershirt, "removed your glasses and wand, and put you to bed."

"I... see..."

Draco couldn't resist that one. "No, actually you don't."

Harry stared at him. "Huh?" he asked intelligently.

"You don't have your glasses on."

A pillow hit Draco in the face.

~*~

Albus Dumbledore was eccentric.

He didn't like 'crazy' or 'insane,' and even 'loony' was a bit much. So he settled for eccentric. Eccentric was _fun_.

And eccentric people had odd quirks. One of Dumbledore's quirks was that every morning for an hour – today it was from four-thirty to five thirty – he'd stand at his window and count the stars as they disappeared from the sky. The reason could be found in his Pensieve, but many were wary of entering such a place, so generally Dumbledore's secrets were left alone, as was he during that hour.

Now, as Dumbledore watched the last star burn above the horizon, his eyebrow quirked; the star was glowing brighter.

No, that wasn't right.

It wasn't a star at all. It was a small object, a bird or a wayward Snitch or something, and it was flying straight for Hogwarts. Dumbledore watched, bemused, as the yellowish dot got larger and larger until it was only a few yards away. _Funny,_ the eccentric man thought, _it isn't stopping... Oh, I hope it doesn't – _

THUD!

And Albus Dumbledore was treated to the sight of a yellow canary flying into his window.

~*~

Harry waved good-bye to Draco before he rounded a corner that would take him to Gryffindor Tower. The moment he was out of the Slytherin's sight he stopped and leaned against the wall, his eyes closing with a tiredness that didn't come from his body.

_What have I gotten myself into..._

~*~

Harry sat down at the breakfast table with trepidation. He'd had a funny feeling in his stomach ever since approximately five-fourteen that morning, judging by the clock in Draco's room (it had in fact been the thing to wake him up that morning), and was positive something was going to happen. He'd snuck back into his room at about six that morning, narrowly missing Dean who had grumbled himself awake and trudged into the bathroom not ten minutes after Harry had dived into his bed. Ron and Neville were sleeping like deadweights (the train-horn snores were the first clue) and Seamus was... doing what Seamus did when Seamus couldn't sleep and Seamus was thinking naughty thoughts. Yeah, that.

An hour later he had gotten up again, showered, changed, and shaken Ron into the realm of the living (Neville had gotten up about fifteen minutes beforehand). Harry then journeyed to the Great Hall for an early breakfast.

Now, as he buttered his toast and piled his plate with eggs and bacon, Harry kept his Seeker eye trained on the ceiling. Aerial attacks were the most likely because of the owls. Besides, he'd had a strange dream last night about insulting someone in German again... and that damn canary had actually gotten _into his dreams. Oh, shudder. Harry decided then and there that he would _never_ try veal. So the canary was also an option for attack._

Across the hall, the doors opened, and Harry caught a flash of blonde as Draco Malfoy stepped into the hall. He held his breath, eyes widening slightly at the way the sun shone on Draco, making him look ethereal and angelic. Harry released a sigh, eyes following Draco as the blonde sat down amidst his friends at the Slytherin table. He watched Blaise Zabini engage the tall boy in conversation before looking away, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

Harry blinked as his eyes connected with green-hazel eyes further down the table. Two Gryffindors stared at each other, before one grinned and the other groaned. Seamus Finnigan grabbed his plate, waved a teasing good-bye to the fifth-year girls, and moved to sit beside Harry.

"Mornin', love."

Harry had to smile, disgruntlement aside. "Morning, Seamus. Have a nice sleep?"

"Had a wonderful one, if I do say so myself. Say, was that you sneaking back into the dorm at four in the morning today?"

Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. "W-what?" he sputtered, wiping his mouth.

"Someone came back into the dorm early this morning and woke me up. 'Course, Dean woke me up too, but he just kept me from going back to sleep, so I used that time to –"

"I get the idea, Seamus!"

"Oh, right. Was it you?" A grin suddenly appeared on Seamus' warm face. "Oh, was our little Harry out last night with someone? Oooh, Harry-love, tell me! I have to know!" _So I can transfigure the little bugger into a toad..._

Harry, of course, blushed. "Seamus! Really. I told you yesterday and I'll tell you today, I don't need a boyfriend. Lay off."

Seamus laughed, causing several girls to croon at the Gaelic lilt. "Of course, Harry-love. You don't need a _boyfriend_ at all."

Harry had the grace to blush more.

"So now you're only into blokes? Who is he? Is he in our classes?"

Harry swatted Seamus upside the head and went back to eating his breakfast. He paused mid-bite, somehow made his eyes light up more (they always seemed to shine with eternal... something – we're not sure what), and finished his bite. "Oh, that reminds me. What happened to you yesterday? You weren't in afternoon classes."

Seamus noticeably deflated, his eyes moving away. "Well..."

"Seamus."

"Malfoy kind of attacked me."

"... Whaaat?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought! I haven't done anything to him yet! And I don't owe him anything... I don't think..." While Seamus quickly checked his calculations and Harry tried to figure out why Seamus would owe Draco something in the first place, across the hall...

Draco sneezed.

Blaise laughed. "Someone's talking about you, Draco."

"Shut up," the blonde growled, glaring at his dark-haired friend.

...Back to Harry and Seamus!

Seamus shrugged, deciding to figure the puzzle out later. "Oi, Harry."

Harry looked up from his pumpkin juice. "Hmm?"

"Will you go with me to the dance?"

"...Huh?" Good going, Harry! Two intelligent answers in the same day!

"I asked if you would go to the Halloween dance with me."

"I know, but... why?"

"Because I like you. And I know you don't want anything serious, so I'm saving you trouble and giving you a friendly face to go with instead of someone you don't really like."

"Oh. Well, in that case, sure." And it didn't even occur to Harry that maybe Seamus wanted to be serious with _him_ instead of anyone else.

Seamus suddenly smiled brilliantly at Harry, causing the young Seeker to pause momentarily in wonder. "You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, love." _You need someone, Harry. I can fill that position until you find him. Or maybe I won't even have to leave – if it's me._

Harry stared before smiling back. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off when Ron flopped down on his other side, mumbling something around a piece of toast. Hermione gracefully took a seat across from them with a large book. Harry grinned widely and changed tactics. "Hermione, Ron! Morning!"

Ron grumbled something at him, and Hermione smiled back. "Good morning, Harry. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Seamus just asked me to the Halloween dance, so that's going to be fun, and –"

Ron sat straight up, red head swiveling around to stare at Seamus. "You asked Harry to the dance."

Seamus stared back, raising an eyebrow. "Yes..." he said slowly, as if speaking to a small child.

Harry and Hermione stopped cold, eyes simultaneously widening. Both of them shared the same thought. _Uh-oh._

"SEAMUS AND HARRY ARE GOING TO THE DANCE TOGETHER???" Ron stood straight up, suddenly wide-awake and gesturing wildly at Harry and Seamus, letting off words faster than Filch could give you detention. Of course, his (rather loud) cry of disbelief just _had to attract the attention of nearly the __entire Hall._

"Ron!" Harry hissed, pulling on Ron's sleeve. "Calm down! It's just a date!"

Seamus had begun to inch away. "Eh heh, I think I'm not needed here anymore, so I'll be on my way..."

Ron growled and grabbed Seamus by his robes front, hoisting the Irishman up to meet his face, which wasn't that much of a distance since Seamus was only a few inches shorter than Ron. Well, it wouldn't have been that much of a distance if Seamus had been standing, but alas, he was sitting, and so was hoisted a good two feet up. If Seamus hadn't been prepared for this jostling, he'd have whiplash.

Harry resisted the urge to slam his head into the table – for all of about five seconds. Downstairs, an elf jumped in fright when a large dent appeared in the wood of the Gryffindor table. It stared at the dent with detached curiosity before shaking its head, fixing the mark, and continuing on its way to the stoves.

The redhead was just getting into a good snarl when, by some cruel twist of fate, his worst enemy appeared: Draco Malfoy.

Draco had a dim smirk on his face and a manic gleam in his eye. The Slytherin focused his attention on Seamus. "What's this I hear about Finnigan taking Potter to the dance?" he said, voice deceivingly soft. Several whimpers were heard.

Seamus stared at Draco for a very quick moment before doing some very quick calculations in his head. Another very quick moment later, he grinned wickedly. The sandy-haired boy detached himself from the gaping Ron and leered at Draco. "What, are you jealous or something, Malfoy?"

Draco snorted, not upset by the comment at all. "Hardly, Finnigan. I just find it very interesting that _Potter_ of all people would go with _you,_ the slut of the school. Does this mean Potter is looking for that kind of action?"

When Harry paled, Seamus felt an emotion he normally didn't deal with: anger. _That Malfoy... if Harry wasn't here... He forced a smile, though his eyes were cold when they looked at the Slytherin. "Even I need some romance here and there, Malfoy." The smile became more real as the blonde's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. __He likes Harry. "In fact, I was going to take Harry out after the dance. You know, so we could get to know each other better." He ignored the bemused look Harry sent his way._

Draco mentally snarled. _That worm. He doesn't deserve Harry._ "Worthless half-blood. Planning to seduce him, I'll bet. An orphan and a slut? You two make a wonderful couple," he sneered, not meaning the comment at all.

Seamus tensed. He _hated_ it when his father's blood was insulted. "Better an orphan and a slut than an orphan and a home-wrecker," he shot back. "Besides, I'm not looking for sex in Harry. Not unless he's ready."

That pissed Draco off. The silver eyes narrowed to ice, dark intents in them. "Are you implying that you want to be Potter's –"

"WILL YOU TWO STOP?!"

The yell stopped them both from trying to kill the other. Seamus turned to Harry, immediately guilty. "Sorry, love..."

Harry shook his head at both of them and stood up. "Seamus, we can talk later, all right?" Without waiting for an answer he turned to Draco. "Malfoy, just stop." He barely stopped himself from adding "please."

Draco stared at him for a long moment, confused at the emotions in the green eyes and angry with Finnigan. He stopped, but he didn't turn away. He wasn't going to admit total defeat, not to Finnigan.

Harry sighed, knowing that Draco wouldn't give up. _It's almost as if he's... He inhaled sharply, immediately understanding. _He likes Seamus! He does! He only acted angry yesterday when I asked him because he didn't want me to know! _Feeling bad for ruining his friend's – __But is Draco a friend?__ Do I trust him that much already? – chances with Seamus, he decided to speak to Draco about it later. "I'm going to get my books," he announced to no one in particular. Without another thought, he started for the doors._

A moment passed, and Hermione and Ron quickly caught up with him. The three left the room in silence, all eyes pasted to their forms. Whispers immediately broke out after they left.

~*~

A short while later, the three best friends were lying on Ron's bed in the seventh-year boys' dorm. The curtains were closed with a silencing spell on them. Harry had his two friends cuddled up to him, Ron on one side, Hermione on the other. He was laying on his back, his two friends on their sides facing him. Ron had a hand on his arm and Hermione was running her fingers through his hair.

He felt safe here. With these two people, nothing bad could happen. He knew the two would never leave him. He loved them for that.

All three were silent. Harry had finished telling them what had happened with Justin and Draco. He never hid anything from them. He couldn't. They were his family; he could never lie to his family. It had been like that with Sirius, too.

Soon Hermione began to speak. "I think Malfoy likes you, Harry," she said quietly.

Ron was nodding. "He was jealous of Justin because you agreed to meet him, and he's very jealous of Seamus for his closeness to you. Why'd you agree to go to the dance with Seamus anyway?"

Harry sighed helplessly for the second time that day. "I don't know. Maybe it was from the confusion from Draco's kiss. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight. But... Seamus is my friend. He won't hurt me. Even if he wants to shag me, he won't unless I say it's okay. He's like that, you know. He doesn't like unwilling partners." His friends nodded in agreement. Harry was silent for a moment. "Do... you really think Draco likes me?" he asked quietly, suddenly unsure.

Both of his friends reached for him at once, comforting him. Hermione leaned down to kiss his brow, while Ron squeezed his hand. Harry felt a warm rush of feelings for them. They meant so much to him...

"I can't be sure, Harry, but I think so. He's always so intense when you're around. If you're not there and someone starts talking about you, he tenses up and glares at them until they shut up. They just think he doesn't like to hear anything about 'Potter' but... he only glares at them when they're saying bad things about you."

"Be careful of him, Harry. He could be lying about this whole thing," Ron said quietly. Harry absently fingered Ron's ring.

"I know he could, Ron, but..." Harry moved his gaze from his best mate's blue eyes and stared at the canopy, thinking. "I don't know why, but I trust him. I think he's changed. I feel safe with him, almost as safe as I feel now, with you two." They both warmed at that, smiling down at him. "My instincts tell me he won't hurt me."

"Harry..." Hermione's voice was quiet.

"Yes?"

"How long has he felt safe to you?"

Harry blinked. Now that he thought about it, he'd felt safe around Draco since sometime in sixth year. "Last year, I think."

"Around what time?"

"After..." he slowed, remembering what had happened.

~*~

_Harry's fingers trembled as he clenched the handle of his dagger. It was Christmas Eve, someplace deep in the __Forbidden__Forest__. He had his father's Invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map with him, currently tucked in his pocket, as well as a dagger he'd received from Sirius for defense._

_It was cold out. Harry was standing in the shadow of a large gnarly tree. The moon was out, making shadows come alive against the shimmering of the snow on the ground._

_Wormtail had just escaped. Harry had been alone against him, but Wormtail had gotten a summoning from Voldemort the moment before he could kill the boy. Harry let a bitter smirk bloom on his face. Voldemort had no one to blame but himself for letting the Boy Who Lived escape this time._

_He knew he had to get out of there. Wormtail had run off for Hogsmeade only seconds ago, and as soon as Voldemort found out he was alone he'd send dozens of Death Eaters after him in no time. Harry turned and ran._

_He'd just reached the edge of the __Forbidden__Forest__ when a white-hot beam of energy shot past him, at something behind him. Harry's eyes widened, and he stopped in his tracks, his robe moving forward with his momentum. For a split second, he stared into cool grey eyes._

_A scream tore him from the storm of his rival's eyes, and Harry whirled around to see Wormtail writhing on the snow. A soft chuckle sounded behind him. Malfoy stepped up next to him, staring down at Wormtail with disdain._

_"Keep him. My father will have no need for him anymore." The Slytherin's voice was soft and deadly. It was the only thing that kept Harry from screaming._

_"Malfoy..."_

_The blonde turned to gaze down at him with intense eyes. Harry could see specks of blue and green in them. He felt his throat grow dry._

_"What?" that husky voice asked. Harry could see the other boy's breath in the air._

_"I..."_

_A hand came up to touch his face, and Harry breathed in sharply at the warmth radiating from Malfoy's skin. He'd always thought of the Slytherin as a cold being. "You shouldn't be here, Potter. He's coming."_

_Voldemort._

_Harry looked down at Wormtail, his gaze hardening. Quietly he uttered two spells that knocked the older wizard out and lifted him into the air. Harry looked back to Malfoy. "Why don't you capture me for him?" he asked softly, his eyes desperate. "He's going to kill me sooner or later." Suddenly Harry wanted to die, to let Voldemort take care of him once and for all, if only it would make Malfoy stop staring at him. _

_Malfoy shook his head and leaned down close to Harry, their noses nearly touching. "Because _I_ want to be the one who destroys you, Potter," the older boy whispered, hot breath mingling with Harry's. "You're mine."_

_Harry felt shock enter his system. _You're mine._ Since when had Malfoy claimed him? He closed his eyes, suddenly aware of how close the other was._

_Silk pressed against his lips for an instant, and when Harry's eyes shot open the other boy was walking away. Harry watched the black-robed figure until it disappeared in the whirl of snow. He took a deep breath to calm his wildly beating heart before he started running for the castle, dragging the prone form of Wormtail behind him._

~*~__

"Since he let me get away with Wormtail," Harry finished, pulling himself from his memories. Hermione and Ron stared at him quietly, remembering when Harry had burst into Dumbledore's office, bloody and pale and shaking from shock.

The three were silent for a while longer, before by unspoken agreement they untangled themselves from each other and went to get their books.

~*~

The next night Harry was wandering around the castle alone. He couldn't sleep. He'd woken from another Voldemort nightmare a half-hour ago and had written out a letter to Dumbledore about it before deciding to take a walk around the castle.

He'd more or less gotten used to his dreams. The Voldemort nightmares hadn't been as frequent as they had been in fourth and fifth year as they were this year and last year. Voldemort was quiet, meaning he would strike sometime soon. Harry hoped it would happen after he finished school. He wanted to graduate.

What worried him now were his dreams about Draco.

He was dreaming of being in love with Draco Malfoy. He had daydreams of walking with him, of their tears mingling, of curling up with him on a winter afternoon and reading a book, of showing him the blue sky after a week of rain.

He dreamt of making Draco smile.

In his dreams, Draco's smile was like the sun on a summer's day. It filled him with warmth and a feeling of being loved.

Harry wondered if Draco could really smile like that. He wanted to see it.

_I can't be falling for Draco Malfoy. Ron and Hermione may say he likes me, but like and love are two different things. He could be obsessed with me for all I know. What if he stalks me? Eurgh, I don't think I could handle that..._

Harry turned a corner, not really noticing where he was going. Thus, he didn't notice the person standing in his way until he walked right into it.

Strong hands came up to steady up before he could fall. Harry stepped back once he had escaped vertigo and rubbed his nose, mumbling something under his breath. Above him, a chuckle sounded.

"No, Harry, I don't think the world is out to get you. Just a crazy dark lord and his crazy henchmen, as well as that camera boy a year under us."

Harry looked up quickly, knocking his glasses awry. "Draco?"

Draco smirked down at him. "In the flesh," he answered. A pale hand came up and straightened Harry's glasses. Harry absently noticed that the Slytherin's other hand had not left his arm. "What are you doing out of bed, Harry? I can take points away, you know."

"What are you doing out of bed?" Harry shot back, feeling unnerved by Draco's presence.

"Couldn't sleep."

Harry relaxed in Draco's grip, sighing. "Neither could I." Draco let him go, and the two started walking together.

Harry had to clench his fist to keep from reaching out to take Draco's hand. _This is insane. "Why can't you sleep?"_

"Just can't. Insomnia or something. You?"

"Nightmares." Draco stopped beside him, and Harry stopped a second after. He looked up at Draco with a confused look. "Why'd you stop?" he asked.

Draco was looking at him with a guarded look, yet Harry thought he could see worry. "You have nightmares?" the older boy asked softly. Harry nodded. "Doesn't anyone know?"

"Yes..."

"Who?"

"Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, Ron, Hermione... Snape... that's about it."

"So why don't they fix it?"

"I don't want to take the potions. They made me sick in sixth year."

"Oh. I see."

They started walking again. When they reached another corridor, Draco reached out and grabbed Harry before he could go his own way. "Harry."

Harry looked away from the floor with a soft sigh. "Yes?"

"If you feel like talking, remember... my door is always open."

Harry had to smile. He was starting to feel tired. "Thank you, Draco."

They went their separate ways, both wishing their paths would converge again.

Their wishes were granted when the two bumped into each other ten minutes later. The corridor had circled around, so the two would meet each other again. The two boys laughed quietly and continued walking, before bidding each other goodnight at their real parting of ways. Harry smiled as he walked up the stairs to the portrait.

_I think I like him._

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	7. The Friday Cliché, Part 1 : I'm Just Wil...

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 7: The Friday Cliché, Part 1 : I'm Just Wild About Harry**

~*~

In the Gryffindor common room, Hermione Granger walked toward her boyfriend with determination. She had to talk to him about Harry.

Ron Weasley was disturbed from his deep staring contest with the fire by Hermione sitting down next to him. He smiled at her and took her hand, once again amazed at how much she had matured.

She smiled back, before sighing and leaning against him. "We need to talk, Ron."

"About Harry." He sighed after her, his eyes turning to the fire again.

She nodded, glad he understood. "And Malfoy."

"You don't want me to get pissed at Malfoy."

"Oh, Ron... it's not just that. If you don't accept it, Harry will be heartbroken. You've seen how they look at each other. You've seen how protective of Harry he is. They are completely in love with each other. Malfoy knows it. And he can't stand not being with Harry, so he's called a truce with him just so he can talk to him without the air of wanting to kill him. And you heard Harry! He's having dreams about Malfoy. Dreams of _love._ Harry doesn't realize it yet, but he's..."

"...in love with Malfoy. I know."

"And you're angry."

"No, I'm not."

Hermione stopped at that. She stared at her boyfriend in amazement. "You're not?"

"Well, I am – it's Malfoy! Malfoy's always been horrible to Harry. But... I know it was a farce. It wasn't true, at least since last year. Maybe it's never been true, and they're soul mates or something. I know how cliché that sounds, but it..."

"...very well could be true. They always seem to know when the other is going to do something. In class and at meals they're always staring at each other with this look in their eyes. They even met before Harry met us. Of course, they didn't hit it off very well, but there was..."

"...still a connection. I know, Hermione, I know. And that scares me. The emotion between them is deep. I think Harry loves him."

"I do, too."

Ron let out an explosive breath. He rested his head on Hermione's, absently noting the soft feel of her hair. "I can't believe Harry's fallen in love. Our little Harry."

She laughed at that. "You said that like he's our child."

"But he is, Hermione. Essentially, we're his family. We nurtured him and gave him the love those damn Muggles refused to give. We took care of him, made him learn to trust, gave him a reason to live. He's been through so much... and now this. Harry's not ready for love."

"Is he? Harry's not a child, Ron. He's almost an adult. He's still so very naïve, I know, but he's growing up. He told us he was bisexual. And Malfoy helped him make that connection, and was the instigator of the feelings. I don't think he's just bisexual, I think he's attracted to only males." Beside her, Ron shuddered. She smiled and nudged him. "Worried he'll hit on you?"

"Cor, no. I'm just disturbed by the idea of Harry as a sexual being. What if Malfoy hurts him?"

"I don't think he will. He cares a lot about Harry." She smiled suddenly, a dim blush on her cheeks. "Their first time will be very gentle, I just know it."

"You have a lot of faith in him, Hermione."

"I do. It's love. It's pure. Malfoy's – oh, Ron, we're going to have to call him Draco – _Draco _isn't going to hurt him."

"Draco. Eurgh."

She laughed. "Ron!"

He smiled at her, slipping an arm around her waist. "Oh, Hermione," he sighed her name fondly. "I love you, and I love Harry. I promise I won't raise a ruckus if he ends up with Malfoy of all people. I'll let them be lovey-dovey and I won't grab – what is it called?"

"A shotgun."

"Right – I won't grab a shotgun and go kill the little ferret. For Harry. But for crying out loud, I won't call him Draco!"

Hermione only laughed.

Just then, Harry bounced into the common room. Hermione and Ron reacted, both turning to the stairs and smiling at the same time. Harry smiled back at them and walked over to them. The slim boy sat down in Ron's lap and threw his legs over Hermione's. He leaned against Ron and let himself relax his best mate, throwing an appreciating smile at Hermione as she started massaging his leg.

Ron grinned down at his friend. "Oi, I'm not an armchair, you know."

"Yes you are!" Harry smiled up at Ron. "You're the comfiest armchair in the world, and this is the best day ever!" the dark-haired boy crowed as he fell back on the couch, his arms spread and a happy grin on his face. His two best friends raised an eyebrow each.

"Harry, did something nice happen?" Hermione asked.

"I think so..."

"What, then?"

Harry sat up and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, "I've got a crush!"

Both raised their other eyebrows. Ron stared down at his best mate, thinking to himself. "You like someone?" Worried green eyes met quiet blue. Ron smiled slightly, reassuring his mate. "Don't worry, Harry, I won't kill them." The smaller boy relaxed, beaming at his two friends.

Hermione smiled, reaching over and squeezing Ron's hand. "What happened, Harry?"

Harry looked around and, seeing no one else in the room, cast a simple silencing charm. Quietly he told them about his walk with Draco.

When he was done, Ron's eyes were dark, and Hermione looked as if she had solved a problem (both Ron and Harry knew the look well, having spent so many years with Hermione). Harry looked between the two of them, wondering how they would react.

He attempted to reach his best mate first. "Ron...?"

The redhead looked up absentmindedly, eyes blinking and focusing on Harry. "Hmm?"

"Are you mad...?"

Ron blinked again, before smiling and gently cuffing Harry upside the head. "Nah. Kinda expe—Ow! Hermione!"

Hermione glared at him, her eyes clearly conveying the message, "Don't tell him." Ron glared back at her. Harry stared blankly at both of them as they duked it out via eyeline.

Ron won. For once. "As I was SAYING! ...I kinda expected it."

Harry stared. Blinked. Stared some more. "What?"

Hermione sighed. "Ron, let me take over from here."

Ron glared at her before shaking his head and letting out a loud sigh. "Go right ahead, Miss I-Can-Do-Anything-Better-Than-You," he said sweetly, gesturing for Hermione to take the stage.

While Harry wondered how Ron knew the song from "Annie Get Your Gun," Hermione ignored Ron's sarcasm and began to speak.

"Harry, Ron and I have suspected for a while that Draco is in love with you."

Harry was torn away from his pondering of his mate's secret Muggle life. "You have?"

Hermione beamed at him. "We have! If you look at the statistics of the animosity level between the two of you for the past six years..." blah, blah, blah, "...and with the variable of how thin the line between love and hate is..." yadda, yadda, yadda, "...and if you look at how you and Draco met in comparison to how you met us, and then at how you became rivals..." Harry felt a yawn coming on, but swallowed it before it could escape, "...combined with the decreasing rate of number of public and private arguments between the two of you..." Ron was already yawning, "...then we can safely conclude that for the last six months, at the very least, Draco has been in love with you."

Harry shook himself from the daze he had entered, smiling brilliantly at Hermione and pinching Ron's side to wake him up. He nodded and smiled. "Yes, Hermione."

Hermione's hopeful look immediately became black. "You didn't hear a word I said."

Harry coughed. "Weeeell... I heard some things about the line between love and hate and a comparison and some arguments, and..."

"That's what I thought. Oh, well. I made notes." With that the child prodigy pulled out a five-feet- long scroll, which she handed to Harry. "You can look over this," the glint in her eye assured Harry that if he didn't read every single word, he could expect a rude awakening of ice water at the next Prefect meeting, "and ask me questions later, preferably this weekend."

Ron chose this moment to speak. "Yes, professor. Are we having a quiz over the material, or do you want a fifteen-inch essay?"

"Both," Hermione declared firmly. All three laughed.

Harry glanced down at the scroll, absently fiddling with its tie. "So... Draco's in love with me?"

"We think so, yes."

Harry suddenly felt worried. _What if I don't love him?__ What if it's only physical? What if it's just a fling for him? What if it's just a fling for me?_ _What if he gets killed in the war?__ If the Slytherins and Voldemort found out how he felt, they'd kill him! And... I want children. I can't have a child with another man! Unless..._

"Hermione?"

Hermione lay her hand on his, squeezing it. Harry smiled at her. "Yes?" she asked, brown eyes on his green ones.

"Are there potions for male pregnancy?"

Two pairs of eyes got almost impossibly wide. "Male... pregnancy?..." Hermione and Ron said at the same time, mouths dropping open.

Harry nodded slowly, as if dealing with small children. "Yes..."

Ron gaped for a long moment. "Blimey, Hermione," he finally said, still staring at Harry, "I think you were right about 'im being gay."

Hermione had a rather comical look to her. Her eyes were glazed and her mouth was forming a small 'oh.' "I think I'm right as well, Ron..."

Harry pouted. Unconsciously, of course, because Harry Potter Does Not Pout. It's a law. Somewhere. "What are you two talking about?"

Both blinked, suddenly aware of their surroundings. Hermione leant forward, forcing Harry to meet her eyes. "There are a few. Why are you interested in male pregnancy?"

Harry, expectedly, blushed. "Well... since pretty much all the people I like are guys, and I haven't really felt right with a girl in that sense... I suppose my life partner will be a guy. I've always wanted children, so that I can raise my own family, and... Hermione, what's wrong?"

Hermione shook her head, dabbing at her eyes. "It's nothing, Harry. It's just beautiful that you step past homophobia and go straight to wanting children with a male partner. Do you think you're gay, Harry?"

Harry blinked. It was only a few days ago that he had figured out he was bisexual, because of his dreams about Draco... and really, he'd thought about it before, when he'd caught himself looking at other boys during Quidditch games, but had never addressed the issue until he'd had a sexual dream about Draco Malfoy. Harry wondered at that.

"Hermione... I never really questioned my sexuality until I had a dream about Draco. I got scared because it was _Malfoy,_ my archrival, someone who I had up till now hated. Or at least intensely disliked. I didn't _hate_ him, I don't think, just... disliked him. Immensely. But I guess... I could be gay. I wouldn't mind it, to tell you the truth."

Hermione smiled. "Have you ever thought about Draco as a love interest?"

Harry turned his head, leaning against Ron, whose arm came up and wrapped around him. He gazed into the fire, thinking. "No, not really. I mean," he blushed a bit, "I had noticed that he's handsome, but I didn't want to upset you guys, especially you, Ron, so I didn't let myself think any more than that."

Ron interrupted him before he could go on. "What do you mean, especially me?"

"Well... you hate Malfoy. Even before you knew him, you hated his name, because your dad hated him."

Beside Ron, Hermione had that look in her eye, the look that meant she was thinking fast and damned be the soul that startled her into forgetting her new discoveries. "Harry... if Ron put aside his hatred for Malfoy and let him court you, would you?"

"I suppose, yes. He's not a bad guy. Even before he popped up at the Dursley's, I've noticed that..." Harry trailed off, looking back at his friends.

"That?" she prompted, her entire demeanor focused on him.

"That he's not that bad of a guy. He's intelligent. He's goal-oriented. He's determined to win, and he's protective of what's his. He's trustworthy, and before you object, Ron, he is. Unless you've done some wrong unto him, he won't exploit your secrets if you ask him to. Remember what he did for Neville in fifth year?"

Ron nodded, while Hermione mused. "When he heard you and Neville talking about the Longbottoms, you mean?" At Harry's nod, she continued. "I guess you're right. You noticed him and made him come out of the shadows, and when Neville asked him to keep it a secret... he did. He hasn't mentioned it to this day, though I've noticed that he's bullied Neville a lot less since then. Well. I never realized that about him."

Harry smiled. "Not many people do, I guess. He doesn't like others to see the real him."

Ron absently tightened his hold on Harry as well as his arm around Hermione. "So you like him, now? Are you going to ask him out, or what?"

Harry shook his head no. "I'm not really sure about my feelings for him. I do like him, but... I don't know if I'm ready for the depth in the relationship he seems to be looking for. Besides, Seamus asked me to the dance, remember?"

Ron made a face. Harry laughed. The tall boy scowled. "Why'd you agree to that, anyway, Harry? He's a slut."

"Ron!" came the cry from Hermione.

"Well, he is!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "He's not that bad."

"Yes, he is!"

"Ron..."

"Well, I don't approve. I swear, Harry, if he hurts you --"

"I know, you'll murder him, and Fred and George will come up and murder him, and then Sirius will resurrect him and murder him again, and then Charlie will bring in his dragons and toast the remains to a crisp, and finally Bill will lock the ashes in a tomb with a particularly nasty curse and break the curse after he's sure the remains have mutated nicely, and after that, you'll send what's left of him to your mother. Didn't you tell me this last year?"

Ron looked thoughtful. "Was that your warning, or Ginny's warning?"

"Ginny's. I was in the room. Then you gave me my warning."

"Which was?"

Harry mock-shuddered. "I'd rather not say." They all laughed.

All three suddenly turned as a commotion was heard upstairs. Harry quickly dispelled the silencing charm and sat up straight, turning in Ron and Hermione's laps to see what was going on. What he saw made his mouth quirk up immediately. He fought hard not to giggle. (Harry Potter Also Doesn't Giggle – it's also a law. Somewhere.)

Seamus had darted down the stairs with Dean's boxers. Said best friend of Seamus had charged after the offending Irishman, ...in naught but a towel. And some water. And a few soap suds. Seamus was laughing, and Dean looked to be frothing at the mouth. Or were those more soap suds? You never knew.

Seamus galloped over to Harry, Ron and Hermione and quickly dived onto the couch beside them, ducking behind Harry and pressing himself to Harry's back and Ron's side. "Protect me!" he giggled, as his tall roommate stomped over to the four and glared down at the sandy-haired head.

"Seamus," growled Dean.

"Yes?" Seamus questioned, looking up and batting his eyelashes.

Unfortunately for Seamus, Dean had been his best friend for six long years and therefore could not be fooled by such looks that the Irishman sent his way. (Such was the same for the rest of the seventh-years, save Lavender, Parvati, and one of the Ravenclaw boys.) The black boy held out a hand, glaring death upon his best friend. "Boxers. Now."

Seamus pouted. "But Deeeaaan," he whined.

"Now."

"But...!"

"Seamus."

"Awww..."

"NOW!"

A first-year that was creeping down the stairs froze at the bellow, staring at the large, only-in-a-towel seventh-year not ten feet from where she stood. With a loud squeal, she bolted back up the stairs, no doubt terrified beyond all reason.

"Dean! You scared the first-year!"

"Good. Give me the boxers, or I'll set your hair on fire."

That got him. Seamus sulked, pouted, sulked some more, and finally handed over the boxers to one now-mollified Dean. Said Dean whapped the Irishman upside the head before heading back upstairs to finish getting ready.

There was a long pause as Seamus straightened from his crouching position, Harry fell back into Seamus' lap, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione all stared blankly at Seamus.

Then the Trio cracked up.

Seamus sniffed, staring disdainfully down at the madly snickering Harry, then over at the wildly hooting Ron and the insanely giggling Hermione. "How rude," he pouted. Then he grinned. Wickedly. "And the best part is...!"

As if on cue, a yell came from upstairs. "SEAMUS!"

Seamus gently pushed Harry out of the way before jumping up and bowing to the growing crowd of Gryffindors. "...That I replaced his shampoo with hair dye." The energetic Irishman winked, did a little bow, and dove out the entrance door, the very moment before Dean (in robes this time) came stampeding down the stairs again, hair a bright green. The large Gryffindor let out a mighty roar worthy of the lion by which his house was represented and bolted after Seamus.

The crowd left in the common room stared at the entrance door before bursting into laughter and loud chatter. The Trio took that as a cue to rise from their couch and lead the small group out of the Tower and down to breakfast.

~*~

At the Gryffindor table, Harry sat between Seamus and Ron, with Colin (Harry cringed every time Colin fingered his camera) and Hermione opposite them.

Harry watched his best friend gobble up his breakfast in something similar to awe. "How can you eat all that?" he asked Ron. "We get to see the Slytherins two times more than the norm today!"

Ron looked up from his rather large breakfast with a raise eyebrow. "Mropff? Mree mphroo? Phrihn?"

At Seamus' raised eyebrow, Hermione translated in a rather monotone voice. "What? We do? When?"

Seamus blinked. "Oh."

Harry smiled and answered Ron. "Next, with Care of Magical Creatures, and later at three, in Potions."

Ron swallowed his mouthful, much to Hermione's disgust. "Damn, that's right. Oi, Harry, don't you have a free period after lunch with me?" Harry nodded. "Want to go flying?"

Harry smiled brightly. One of his greatest loves was Quidditch. "Sure!"

Seamus leaned over and touched Harry's elbow. "Harry?" the sandy-haired boy said quietly.

Harry turned and looked at Seamus, quirking an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Will you go out with me?"

Harry opened his mouth to speak but found no words to say. The conversation around the two stopped, as everyone turned to stare at the Boy Who Lived's possible beau and his Boy Wonder. 

Colin got a manic look in his eye and ran a finger along his sweet camera. (Harry shuddered.)

Harry fidgeted, glanced at Hermione and Ron, and looked back at Seamus – freezing for a split second when his eyes locked with a certain silver-eyed Slytherin's – and breathed out.

"Yes," he managed softly, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach. _This is all right. I can see other people besides Draco. I don't need to date Draco. I just want to be friends with him. And Seamus won't hurt me._

_I hope._

Seamus' hazel eyes had lit up at Harry's answer. The Irishman smiled brightly, reaching over and taking Harry's hand in his. "I'm glad, love."

A camera flashed.

Harry groaned. "Colin..."

Colin perked up, eyes shining brightly. "Yes, Harry?!"

"No. Pictures."

"Oh, sorry." Needless to say, Colin didn't look sorry at all as he petted his camera happily. "No pictures. Got it."

Harry sighed. He squeezed Seamus' hand back before letting go and continuing his meal. Seamus grinned – and, unbeknownst to Harry, flashed a victorious grin at a certain Slytherin across the Great Hall – and turned to talk to Dean. Ron leaned into Harry slightly, whispering in his ear. "Are you sure about this, Harry?"

Harry nodded, not really wanting to speak, lest Colin find another excuse to take a picture of him. Beside him, Ron sighed and went back to his breakfast, while across from them, Hermione watched with quiet, knowing eyes.

~*~

When Seamus Finnigan stepped out of the castle to head for Care of Magical Creatures, he was stopped by a pale hand and yanked aside into the shadows. Dean Thomas, who was standing behind him, raised an eyebrow and peered into the shadows. Silver eyes met black, and Dean nodded, continuing on his way.

Draco Malfoy turned back to Seamus, his eyes glittering ice. "So."

Seamus straightened his robes, leaning back against the cold, stone wall of the castle. "So?"

Draco pulled out a piece of paper, holding it up for Seamus to see. "Care to explain, Finnigan?"

_To Draco Malfoy,_

_Or He Who Is Interested,_

_I, the Understated, declare War on He Who is Interested for the Possession of one Harry Potter's Hand in Holy Matrimony or Unholy Smut. I, the Understated, understand that He Who Is Interested has Feelings for one Harry Potter, and as I, the Understated, also have Feelings for one Harry Potter, I, the Understated, wish to fight for Harry Potter's Hand. If He Who Is Interested agrees to do Battle, meet me, the Understated, in the Charms Classroom this Friday._

_The Understated,_

_Seamus Finnigan_

Seamus cocked his head to the side, reading the letter. He let a smirk bloom on his lips. "Why, I believe it's a declaration of war, Malfoy."

Draco only glared.

Seamus held back a gulp, knowing he was messing with fire -- or better yet, ice. "As I can see, from the understated person's point of view, the person who is interested has feelings for a certain dark-haired Seeker. The understated also has feelings for this Seeker, and so he proposes a war. Winner takes all."

Draco smiled viciously. "It never mentions 'winner takes all' in the letter, Finnigan. So, you want to fight with _me_ for the status of being Potter's boyfriend, am I correct?"

Seamus paled. _Damn._ "That's right."

"I see." The Slytherin smirked, eyes flashing maliciously. "Then know, O Understated One, that He Who Is Interested does not intend to lose the hand of one Harry Potter to the likes of _you."_

Seamus slowly grinned back, eyes dark and narrowed. "I accept your challenge, Malfoy, and let the best man win."

Draco turned away, deftly rolling up the parchment and slipping it into his robes. "I intend to."

Seamus rolled his eyes as the Slytherin left. "A bit egotistical, are we?" he muttered to himself, following the blonde to their class.

~*~

Harry watched, confused, as first Draco, then Seamus, walked into class late. Absently he ran his fingers through his long hair, wincing slightly as his nails dug into his scalp. He exchanged glances with Ron as Seamus walked up to them with a small smirk. As Seamus took his hand, Harry glanced across the yard at Draco, wondering at the dark grey color of his eyes.

Draco felt like growling aloud when he saw Seamus take Harry's hand. What was worse was that Harry _let_ him. _Finnigan must have taken claim on him immediately, he thought to himself, glaring at the Gryffindor, who smirked back._

Hagrid, who had stopped talking as the two had joined the class, began to talk again. Draco listened half-heartedly, though his mind was somewhere else. When Hagrid dismissed them to begin their work, he turned to Crabbe and raised an eyebrow. "What are we doing today, Vince?"

Vincent glanced down at him, raising an eyebrow in return. "We're looking after some beast. If it's still there at the end of class, we don't have to do an essay on it."

Draco nodded and picked up one of the little fuzzballs by the scruff of its neck. "Hey, you," he said softly, staring into its bright green eyes, "if you stay with me for an hour and a half, I'll give you a big treat. How does that sound?"

The little monster made a chirruping noise that sounded to Draco like an agreement. He put the gold animal down, only to have it hop up onto his shoulder. He shrugged. "That solves that."

Vincent was looking at him in disgruntlement and something akin to awe. "You have a way with animals, Draco. No doubt."

Draco offered a small smile. "Of course I do, Vince. I deal with you and Greg every day, don't I?"

Vincent smirked in return. "If we were alone, Draco..."

"I'd be dead. I know. We'll save that for later, all right, Vince?"

Vincent nodded and wandered off to catch one of the beasts. Draco sighed, watching the boy -- no, man – kneel down and gently pick up a white one with blue eyes. Greg was holding a black one, slightly larger, with orange eyes – completely opposite to Vincent's.

Absently he let his eyes roam over the class, noting how Harry was sitting on some grass, playing with a silver-and-silver mix. Finnigan was watching a russet-eyed, black male play with a blue-eyed gold female with quiet eyes, while Blaise was letting a sandy-colored one play with his hair.

Suddenly he had the urge to know more about these creatures. Quietly he approached Hagrid. "Hagrid?" he called, his nose twitching when the furry thing nibbled on his ear. The half-giant turned to look at him, and a faint look of surprise came over the ruddy face.

"Yeah, Malfoy?"

"What exactly does this thing do?"

"Well, ye see, the Puffskein 's usually a house pet fer small children, but since the animals I'm havin' flown up here won't be here for a few weeks, we'll be workin' wit' animals more seen aroun' the average wizardin' home, as ye'll be leavin' and startin' your own homes next year."

Draco had to suppress a smile. Trust Hagrid to think about home life. "What are their magical properties?"

"Well – and I don' know if this is true or not – there's this ol' legend that children really like that says that the Puffskein you pick up firs' is the representation of your soul mate, or future partner, or somethin' like that. The colors could represent auras, hair color, eye color, skin color, anythin'. Mostly skin and eye combinations. Little kids loved that sorta thing, so it's fun ta tell them the old legends."

"Are there other legends?"

"Mos' likely, but I don't remember them righ' offhand. If you want to look them up, yer welcome to, Malfoy."

"Thank you, Hagrid." Draco turned away from the gamekeeper with a thoughtful look. He raised a hand and scratched the back of his Puffskein, watching the rest of the class. Some had paused in their antics to listen to Hagrid, while others were watching him. He stared back at them, and they looked away.

Harry was looking at him. Draco looked back, his eyes connecting with Harry's. The verdant orbs were asking him something, no... pleading him, to understand something. _Maybe why you went out with Finnigan, Harry? Draco sighed and looked away. He wandered over to a tree and sat down in the shade, even though the sun wasn't high enough for it to be that warm yet._

Blaise came and sat next to him, his golden hand petting his Puffskein gently. "You're quiet today."

Draco smirked, eyes automatically moving to focus on Harry. "I'm in a war."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh?"

"With Finnigan. Over whatshisname." They never said his name aloud when in public. Usually they made up obscure names for Harry so others would have no idea as to about whom they were talking.

"Ah. Want me to help?"

"As long as you don't try to beat me."

"No problem. I have my sights set on someone other than Harry."

Draco sighed and leaned back against the tree, his eyes closing. "Strange. Everyone's wild about Harry."

Suddenly Blaise burst out laughing. Draco opened one eye and glared at him. "Why are you laughing?"

Blaise pulled himself under control rather quickly, offering a grin to his friend. "Sorry. You just made a rather funny joke."

"Please, let me in on it, so that I don't die of curiosity." The sarcasm in Draco's voice was enough to make his Puffskein giggle.

"There's this old Muggle song that goes like, 'I'm just wild about Harry, and Harry's just wild about me' or something like that... get it?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I see. Remind me that if you ever want to be a comedian, to call your agent and tell him to quit."

A sardonic brow rose. "I thank you for your support."

"No problem."

The two smiled.

~*~

Harry smiled down at his Puffskein, reaching down to touch its nose. "Hey, I have to let you go now." The Puffskein made a wounded noise, and Harry laughed. "Sorry. Maybe I'll see you next week, hmm?" The little animal rubbed against his hand and made a chirruping sound. Harry sighed and let it down, watching as it ran to Hagrid before waving good-bye to the half-giant and turning to walk with Ron and Hermione.

He smiled at them, and they smiled in return. The three began their walk to their next class.

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	8. The Friday Cliché, Part 2 : The Potions ...

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 8 : The Friday Cliché, Part 2 : The Potions Class Cliché #1 : Harry Gets Paired with Draco**

~*~

Draco was muttering to himself when he stepped onto the Quidditch pitch after lunch. "Damn Finnigan, always getting in my way, I'll kill him when this is over, no, even better, I'll neuter him! Mwahaha! Then he'll never be able to touch Harry! Oh... I love it when I'm evil... mwahahaha... Finnigan is going to DIE."

~*~

Somewhere, Seamus sneezed. Dean looked at him in amusement. "Somehow I think that was divine retribution, Seamus."

"Shut up," wheezed the Irishman, glaring at his best friend. Dean shrugged, grinning.

~*~

Harry took a deep breath of air as he stepped onto the pitch. He breathed out with a sigh, a smile escaping his lips. "When is practice going to be held, Captain?"

Ron pursed his lips, staring up at the white-and-green dot in the sky. "Next week. Damn it, the ferret's here."

Harry blinked and followed Ron's gaze. "Oh..." he said softly, staring at the blonde-haired boy above them. "Do you want to go back in, Ron?" he asked lightly. Truthfully, he didn't want to face Draco right now. _Why do I feel like I've betrayed him by going out with Seamus? Do I really like him that much...?_

Ron, however, saw right through the question. "No," he said firmly. "We can put up with a ferret for a couple hours, right? It's not like he's going to eat us."

Harry had to smile at the ferret quip. "All right," he sighed, mounting his Firebolt and lifting into the air. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron do the same. _He's been really enthusiastic about being on the team ever since he was named captain in sixth year, and by Fred and George no less! They must've known how good at chess he is... Ron's such a great leader._

Ron had been given a Firebolt by his successful brothers in sixth year, to complete his Captain status. Now, as the redhead flew up beside Harry, the dark-haired Seeker could see how good of a flyer the taller boy was. Harry flashed a grin at Ron and set off, laughing at the yell his best mate made.

He turned forward and nearly fell off his broom when his gaze locked with the silver one across the pitch. Harry flushed and looked away, slowing down for Ron to catch up.

Draco had watched silently as Harry and Ron had approached the pitch and flown up. Now he watched silently as Harry blushed under his gaze. _Betrayal. He thinks he's betrayed me. Oh, Harry... you haven't said you love me, and after that you love him. How in the world could you have betrayed me? Unless... Draco shook that thought away. There was no way Harry could return his feelings._

Harry glanced at Ron, only to see twin blue eyes glaring at him. He internally 'meep'ed, smiling innocently at the Keeper. "Yes, Ron?"

"Go and talk to him."

Harry blinked, surprised. "You... want me to talk to Draco?"

"...Eurgh." Harry laughed. Ron sighed. "I guess I do. Go on. He won't hurt you if I'm here."

Harry chortled softly, smiling at his friend. "He wouldn't hurt me at all, with or without your presence."

"If you're sure, then."

They grinned at each other, before Harry piped his question. "Besides, what would I talk to him about?"

Ron let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine! If you won't talk to him, I will!" The redhead shot forward, coming to a neat stop about ten feet from his Slytherin foe. "Oi, Malfoy," he called out, glancing at Harry's surprised look, "convince this ninny over here that Seamus isn't good for him." For a brief moment, blue eyes connected with silver.

Draco narrowed his eyes and flew forward until he was hovering right in front of Ron. "What are you talking about, Weasley?"

Ron stared at him, as if assessing him. "We _know, Malfoy," he said quietly, so Harry couldn't hear. He looked pained to say it, giving Draco a small feeling of smugness. At Draco's pointed look, Ron quickly clarified his statement. "About your... eurgh, __feelings for Harry."_

Draco felt his mind come to a stop. _Oh, shit._ "I don't know what you're talking about."

Ron was still staring at him, the blue eyes trying to make him understand something. "Yes, you do, Malfoy... and... it's _okay."_

Draco stared at him.

Ron flushed. "But if you hurt him," he rushed on, fixing a hard glare on Draco, "I'll kill you. We'll both kill you."

Draco stared at him for a moment longer before he finally cracked a smirk. _Damn all-knowing Granger. "All right, Weasley," he said quietly. "But you can rest assured knowing I would never hurt him."_

Ron relaxed. "Good." The redhead paused, glancing back at Harry, who was staring them with a look that was a mix of confusion, worry, and nervousness. "Hermione's probably going to kill me anyway for telling you... she'll probably try to corner you in the next few days and straighten everything out, just to warn you," he finished, looking back to the blonde.

Draco lifted an eyebrow, then let his gaze travel over to Harry. He smirked slightly. "All right, Weasley," he said loudly for Harry to hear. He flew over to the other Seeker and came to a stop beside him, hovering close to him. Harry eyed him nervously as he came within the limits of personal space. Draco leant forward, lips touching Harry's ear. "Finnigan isn't good for you, Harry," he whispered.

Harry shivered, swallowing a moan before it could escape. Damn erogenous zones. He shot a glare at Ron, who looked bemused. He glanced back up at Draco, once again noticing the blue and green specks in the grey-silver of his eyes. _I'm always so close to him... It feels nice, he decided, and he leant up to whisper in Draco's ear. __I'm nearly kissing his ear. "Oh? And why is that, pray tell?"_

He was almost chest-to-chest with the Slytherin, their knees pressing together and their cheeks brushing against the other's. _Funny how it feels so right to be beside him, Harry thought to himself._

He felt the blonde's lips touch his ears, almost as if he _was kissing him. "Because he'll hurt you, Harry. He'll take you and break you, then toss you out in the cold for the next person. He's never stuck with one person. What makes you think you'll be the one to tie him down? I don't want to see you hurt, Harry..."_

Harry turned his head so that he was face to face with his rival-turned-friend. _We're friends. Wow. Never thought I'd say that about Malfoy. The other's lips were so close... __If I just lean forward, we'll kiss..._

Unfortunately, the moment never came to pass. Harry heard a click from below, and his insides froze up. "Colin," he whispered, eyes widening. _Oh, no!_

Draco stared at him before looking down at where the click came from. Colin Creevey – _Colin Creepy, _Draco thought to himself – was standing in the bleachers, a camera in hand, and was clicking away. Draco's eyes narrowed. Quickly he turned from Harry and shot down to where the sixth-year stood, zipping past him and reaching out to snag the camera. 

A rather keen cry rose from the Gryffindor as his precious camera was stolen. "NO!" Creepy Creevey cried out, reaching for his baby. "GIVE HER BACK!"

Draco ignored the idiot and pressed on the catch on the bottom. A roll of film sprang out, and Draco caught it with a Seeker's reflexes. "I don't think you need this," he stated calmly, ignoring the scream of anger. He took out his wand and muttered an "_Incendio" under his breath, watching as the film was swallowed in flames. He tossed the camera back to Creevey, who caught it numbly, light blue eyes on the ashes from the film. Draco sneered. "Don't take any more pictures of Harry while __I'm around," he warned softly, watching with glee as the Gryffindor froze at the tone._

He turned back to find Harry staring at him with wide green eyes and Ron in hysterics.

"What?" he asked, thoroughly puzzled at the reactions. "Why are you staring at me like that, Harry?"

Harry shook his head quickly, eyes still wide. "You better watch out, Draco," the Seeker said quietly. "The last guy who messed with the camera..." Draco watched, amused, as the boy shuddered.

"Don't worry about it, Harry. He can't hurt me."

"Well," Harry started, looking past Draco at Colin, who was staring at the Slytherin with murder in his eyes, "...meep."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Serves him right for stalking you. Come on, Harry. Let's go flying." With that he flew upwards.

Harry sighed, glancing over at Ron, who had himself under control now. He shrugged and flew after the Slytherin. Ron glanced between his two choices. A murderous Colin or a ferret in love with his best friend?

Ron chose the ferret.

~*~

A couple hours later the three touched down on the pitch, laughing. Well, Ron and Draco were laughing – Harry was red in the face and was sputtering.

"Lay off, Ron! It's not _my_ fault that Oliver walked in at precisely the wrong time!"

Draco snickered. "It's very amusing that Wood would find you in such a _compromising position, Harry."_

"_I was looking for my glasses!"_

Ron shook his head and grinned at his younger friend. "Sure you were, Harry."

Harry only muttered dire threats under his breath.

Draco smirked, reaching over and mussing up Harry's hair. To his surprise, the black waves were soft like silk. "That's a good little Gryffindor," he murmured softly, grinning widely when said Gryffindor glared daggers at him.

"I hate you," the smaller boy sulked.

"Of course you do, dear."

"Draco!"

"Yes?"

"Stop teasing me."

"But it's so fun, Harry."

"..." Harry glared.

Ron smirked as he watched the two. _It's like watching a married couple's banter._ He froze at that thought. _Bloody hell! I just thought of Malfoy and Harry as a married couple! What's the world coming to?!_

Without thinking he glanced at his watch, if only to tear his eyes away from the two in front of him. When Ron saw the time, his heart gave a start.

"Holy _shit!_ WE'RE LATE!"

Draco and Harry froze in their banter and immediately looked at their own watches. "_Shit!_" they both cursed, and all three boys grabbed their brooms and ran for the castle. Once inside they split up, Harry and Ron running for the tower while Draco hightailed it to the dungeons.

Ten minutes, and they met up again at the door to the Potions classroom. Actually, Draco had just halted outside the door when Harry and Ron came rushing down the stairs – resulting in Harry running right into Draco and knocking the two to the floor.

The raven-haired Gryffindor immediately flushed and started to push himself up, hands on Draco's chest. "Sorry," he mumbled, refusing to meet Draco's eyes. Then he froze when he realized their position.

_I am sitting on Draco... like... like... _Harry's mind couldn't comprehend that. Oh, he knew a few things about the birds and the bees and the relative positions of the sun when the birds and the bees were engaging in certain acts of harmony, but he'd never... well. (That is to say, Harry is an Official "Capital Letters of Importance" VIRGIN!) Harry gulped as he felt the muscles of Draco's broad chest through the cloth under his fingers. _Why am I always caught in situations like these? Harry asked himself, scrambling off Draco and falling to the side. Draco sat up, fixing a confused but rather cute (in Harry's point of view) look on the other Seeker, and Harry mentally berated himself for thinking such a horrible thought. _Draco would curse me if he knew I was thinking dirty thoughts about him.__

_...Or at least the old Malfoy would. Now, Malfoy'd probably blush... or do something equally cute... and handsome... and... gah! POTTER! You're with Seamus, not Draco!_

A sly voice piped up in Harry's mind, **Oh, you know you would rather be with Draco, Harry... **It was, in fact, Devil!Harry, but Harry rather had a blind spot where the voices in his head were concerned. Or, to phrase it better, he didn't acknowledge them at all.

Harry immediately halted all thoughts right there. "That's it, I'm officially insane," he mumbled as he stood up, refusing to look at either Draco or Ron.

"I believe we already knew that, Potter," a silky voice stated in front of him, making Harry cringe and look up fearfully, "but thank you for pointing out the obvious."

Severus Snape was standing in front of Harry, looking sexy and terrible all at once. (Harry then shot his mind and told it to stay dead until it could think properly; Devil!Harry sulked again.) Harry cringed again, numbly staring at his Potions professor.

Snape smiled evilly. "Since Mr. Potter has finally given me his attention, I would like to know if he would deem himself worthy to enter my classroom." The tall professor stood aside and waved a hand to the open door, where Harry could see several faces peering at him in confusion and worry, Ron and Draco included. Harry picked up his bag and ran into the classroom. Snape swooped in after him, leaving the door banging in his wake.

Harry rushed to the front and dropped into his seat beside Ron, looking properly chastised and embarrassed. Snape took his place at the front and glared at his seventh-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. _Thank Merlin this is their last year,_ he thought to himself.

"Now that my class is complete, I will finish seating arrangements. These will be permanent, I remind you, and there will be no complaints." The lazy tone of voice their professor took assured the students that this statement would prove to be true if they wanted to stay alive. "Where was I... ah, yes. Granger and Parkinson. Weasley and Crabbe. Zabini and Finnigan. Potter and Malfoy."

The seventh years dared not groan. They all stood up and rearranged themselves quietly into pairs. Draco and Harry sat in the front on the right. Blaise and Seamus sat on the other side of the aisle, also in the front. Ron and Crabbe sat behind Harry and Draco, Hermione and Pansy sat behind Seamus and Blaise, and so on and so forth. Harry exchanged a pained look with Draco before focusing his attention on Snape again.

"You and your partner will work together to make the Medicus Potion on page five-forty-two. The ingredients are on the board, and it'd do you well to copy them down, as I will erase them in ten minutes." There was a flurry of motion as students pulled out parchment and quills and set to writing. "We will be working on this potion for the next few weeks, and after we have finished it you will be tested on it. Take notes for the first thirty minutes of class, then begin on your potions." Snape turned away from them, clearly giving them leave to follow their instructions.

Harry began to copy the ingredients, ignoring Seamus trying to get his attention. Over his head, Draco glared at the sandy-haired Gryffindor, making Seamus squeak and glare back while Blaise smirked over his own notes. Harry noticed none of this, however, and when he finished making his notes and finally looked over at his boyfriend, Seamus quickly stopped making faces at Draco and smiled at Harry. Harry couldn't help but snicker.

As if on cue... "Potter!"

"Erm, yes, professor?"

"What is so funny that you have to disturb my class with your insane giggles?"

"My gi—I mean, my _laughter_ is not in—" A pinch to his leg made him cut that statement off and glare at Draco, before looking back at Snape. "Sorry, sir. I was just..." Draco casually slid a piece of parchment over to him. Harry shot him a look of gratitude. "...laughing at a joke Malfoy told me."

Snape's dark eyebrows lifted, and he swiped the parchment off the table and read its contents. He did not read aloud, but his black eyes narrowed and he glared over at Draco who smiled innocently at his godfather. Snape rolled his eyes. "Stay on task, Potter," he said silkily, glaring at his godson before turning away to see to Neville. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks," he said sotto voice to Draco. Draco shrugged.

"I'd rather Finnigan get in trouble than you, Potter," he sotto-voiced back, standing and starting on setting his cauldron up. Harry stood as well, glancing over at Seamus apologetically. He was startled to see Seamus glaring in his direction – no, wait... Seamus was glaring at _Draco! Harry looked away quickly. _

_He's jealous of Draco. Oh my god, I'm being fought over._

Draco touched his arm and asked him to go get some of the ingredients. Harry nodded absentmindedly and set off to the ingredients cabinet, mind whirling.

They spent the next hour or so carefully putting together the potion. Surprisingly, when they weren't fighting, Harry and Draco made a good team. At ten minutes till the bell, they had finished the first part of the potion perfectly and had it bottled away and stored in the cabinet.

However, the real trouble started when Blaise and Seamus finished their clean up.

Seamus walked over to where Harry and Draco were sitting and casually slid an arm around Harry, staking his claim on the smaller boy. The Irishman flashed a grin at his Slytherin enemy, leaning down to kiss Harry's cheek.

Predictably, Harry blushed.

Draco leveled a cool stare at Seamus. "May we help you, Finnigan?"

Seamus smirked at him. "_You_ can leave _me and __Harry alone, Malfoy. Let us lovebirds coo at each other, hmm?"_

Draco rolled his eyes and turned away. "Do as you like."

Harry felt strangely hurt when Draco said that. _Does he not care that I'm with Seamus...?_ Harry started with a small yelp as he felt hands creeping into his robes. "_Seamus!_" he yelped, jumping away from the Irishman and whirling around, green eyes wide. "_What are you doing?_" he hissed, holding his robes to his body tightly.

Seamus looked a bit wounded, making Harry feel guilty. "Sorry," the other boy murmured, turning away.

Harry was about to apologize for his reaction when he heard a snort behind him. "I told you he was a slut," Draco said softly, silver eyes fixed on Seamus. "Even coping a feel in the _Potions classroom of all places. He has nothing but sex on the brain."_

All hurt faded from Seamus' countenance and was replaced with anger. "You're going to pay for that remark, Malfoy. I won't take advantage of Harry."

"Then what were you doing just now? Feeling horny, so you'll use innocent Potter as your outlet?"

Seamus made no answer but to leap for Draco's throat. Harry was pushed aside into the table, and he watched with horror as Seamus knocked Draco to the ground and the two began to fight. "No! Seamus! Stop it!" he cried, pushing himself up and moving toward the two on the ground. He reached out to grab Seamus' arm to pull him back.

Instead, Seamus whirled around and struck out, hazel eyes furious and clouded. Harry felt shock flood his senses as he was knocked back from the blow, green eyes fixed on his boyfriend. Silence filled the room as Harry lifted a hand to his stinging cheek. He made no noise, but when Seamus pushed Draco away and reached out for him, he flinched back from the hand that had struck him. Seamus pulled back looking immensely sorry.

Behind him, Draco was enraged. "_Bastard!_" the Slytherin spit out, eyes hard. "You dare hit him when he tries to save you? _Fool!_" The blonde grabbed the back of Seamus' robes and pulled him around, throwing a sound punch into his face.

Two hands stopped either combatant from any further blows. Snape had appeared and grabbed both boys, ripping them apart and stopping both from killing each other. The professor stood up, using surprising strength to bring the other two up with him. "That will be _enough! There will be no fighting in my classroom! Detention! All three of you!" Both Seamus and Draco started to protest at Harry getting detention, but a dark glare from Snape stopped them both._

Thankfully, the bell rang just then.

Snape let Draco and Seamus go and pushed them away from him. "Get out," he said quietly, glaring at them both, but speaking to the whole class. The students quickly obeyed, all except the two combatants, the Trio, and Blaise.

Ron and Hermione knelt beside Harry, gently pulling the distraught boy to his feet. Ron grabbed his mate's bag and led Harry out of the room, while Hermione went to Seamus, Draco and Blaise.

Before Seamus could speak, she held up a hand. "You will apologize to Harry later," she stated, leaving no room for an argument. Seamus nodded, not protesting. Her brown eyes fixed on Draco. "If you two are going to fight over Harry, at least do it in a civilized manner. Harry doesn't like physical combat. In fact, he hates fighting, but since you are both so determined to win him, at least leave the physical part out. He'd hate to see either of you wounded."

Draco felt guilty for making Harry feel like that. He nodded quietly.

Seamus sighed and nodded as well. Hermione stared at them for a moment longer before turning and following her two friends out of the room. Seamus watched her go before looking at Draco.

"So, how are we –"

He was cut off by Draco's low, hard voice. "If you _ever raise a hand to Harry again, I'll kill you. He does not need to be in an abusive relationship, especially not after what his family did to him. You are crossing too many lines, Finnigan," the Slytherin said quietly, his stormy eyes flashing with anger._

Seamus gulped, but found enough courage to glare back. "Fine," he shot back, crossing his arms and glaring.

Draco looked at him coldly. "In respect to Granger's and Harry's wishes, we will not physically fight each other, nor will we have a wizard's duel. But we will fight," the blonde assured Seamus, "and we will do it soon." Without another word, Draco gathered up his things and gracefully swept out of the room.

Blaise gazed at Seamus with dark russet eyes before following his best friend. Seamus sighed, looking around the empty classroom, only to find Snape's evil black eyes fixed on him. He paled, grabbed his stuff, and ran out the door.

Severus rolled his eyes. They were all fools. No doubt about it. The Potions professor stood up and stretched, before walking through a door that would take him to his personal chambers, where he could moon over his one picture of Sirius Black in peace.

~*~

Seamus didn't get to speak to Harry until after dinner. Under Ron's glare, he climbed the stairs to the dorms and walked up to the last door at the top of the tower. Quietly he knocked.

"Come in," came the soft voice. Seamus opened the door and walked in. He paused, eyes moving around the room until he found Harry on Ron's bed. Internally he smiled, knowing how Harry had always crept into Ron's bed after a particularly bad nightmare in fifth year. Silently he walked to the bed and sat down.

"I'm sorry for hitting you, Harry," he said softly, hazel eyes on the smaller boy. Harry looked up at him, blinking, before smiling.

"I forgive you, Seamus. I know you were caught up in the heat of the moment."

Seamus visibly relaxed. He lay down beside Harry, not touching the other boy, but staying close enough to assure him he was there. "I never meant to hurt you, Harry. Um..." he trailed off, thinking about what Draco had said.

"Hmm?" the dark-haired boy murmured, looking over at him. "What is it?"

"Did your... family... ever do anything to you?"

Harry blinked. "Like... hit me, you mean?"

Seamus nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, no, not really. They just ignored me, didn't feed me enough, and pushed me around sometimes. I got in fights with my cousin, but that's to be expected."

"So your uncle never beat you or anything?"

"No. He handled me roughly, but it wasn't beating. Why? Did Draco say something like that?"

"Sort of."

"Right. Don't worry about it. I wasn't abused as a kid," Harry said, smiling. Seamus smiled back.

"Listen, Harry, if you ever want to call this off, I won't stop you."

Harry blinked, staring at him. "What...?"

Seamus' smile softened. "If you ever feel uncomfortable with me, don't be afraid to break up with me. I don't want you to be uncomfortable or hurting or anything like that. And if you don't feel anything for me, then you don't need to go out with me just because I feel something for you. All right?"

Harry stared at him. "Well..." he began, blushing.

Seamus stopped, staring back. "Let me guess," he said all monotone-like, "you really _don't_ feel anything for me, you've got a crush on someone else, and that someone else happens to be Malfoy?"

Harry turned red.

Seamus laughed. "I should have known," he said fondly, reaching out and mussing up Harry's hair. Harry batted his hand away, looking contrite.

"Well, it's just a _small_ crush, and I do like you, Seamus, just..."

"Just not as much as you like him."

"Yeah."

"Well, don't worry, Harry," Seamus said cheerfully, grinning at his roommate, "because I promise you I shall fight tooth and nail for your hand. Malfoy's not going to get you easily, if at all."

Harry's eyes widened. "Oh, don't fight him, Seamus! You'll both get hurt!"

Seamus shook his head. "We agreed on no physical fighting. No dueling either. We'll figure something out," he offered with a roguish wink. "Both of us are _very_ eager to win you."

Harry, in the typical Harry-Style, blushed.

"Good," the Boy Who Lived muttered, looking away. "Now, Seamus, if you don't mind..." he trailed off suggestively, looking up at Seamus through his eyelashes.

Seamus' eyes widened. _Is Harry Potter flirting with me?_ he asked himself wildly. "Y...yes?" he whispered.

Harry smiled sweetly at him. "...Get OUT OF RON'S BED!" he finished with a flourish, laying his hands on Seamus' chest and shoving him off.

Seamus reacted with a cry and a thump as he hit the floor. "Ow! Bloody hell, Harry!" he cursed, glaring up into the gleeful green eyes of his small beau.

Harry just grinned at him. "Ron would kill you if he knew you'd been in his bed."

Seamus pouted. "Well, what about you, then?"

"I'm allowed to be in his bed."

"Isn't that supposed to be within the boundaries of boyfriend?"

Harry laughed. "And how do you know me, Ron and Hermione don't have a threesome going on?"

"You don't. Trust me. I know the signs."

Harry smiled at him. Seamus smiled back.

Ron walked in just then. "Oi, are you two done yet?" he asked loudly, putting his hands on his hips. "There are a few of us that want to use the room!"

Harry laughed, while Seamus winked at his redheaded roommate. "Of COURSE, Ron! We'll be HAPPY to let you use the room!" the Irish boy bellowed, hopping up from the floor and skipping over to his own bed.

Ron had on a bewildered look as he turned to Harry. "Is he all right in the head?"

Harry grinned, sitting up on Ron's bed. "'Course not. Oi, Seamus! Can we call it off for now? The whole dating thing? I'll still go with you to the dance, though."

A muffled cackle escaped Seamus' now curtained bed. "Sure!"

Ron sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin. Now I can sleep in peace without worrying about you two screwing like rabbits."

Harry smiled shyly. "What if I have someone else in mind for that?"

Ron stared at him. Then went to bang his head on the wall.

"Damn –" bang, "Malfoys –" bang, "getting –" bang, "into –" bang, "everything!" Bang!

Harry only laughed. And behind his curtains, Seamus plotted.

_I'll fight for Harry, but... if it turns out that he's happy with Malfoy, I'll leave him alone. But until Harry says "I love you" to Draco Malfoy, I'll fight. I have to._

_After all, Malfoy could actually be one of those aliens who take on the looks of a human and is bent to destroy all of mankind, and to do that, he needs Harry as a virgin sacrifice! Ahhh! I'll save you, Harry!_

Apparently, Seamus had read one too many of the comic books he had borrowed from Dean.

~*~

Meanwhile, somewhere in the endless depths of the magical academy that is Hogwarts, a small yellow canary lurked.

Or wandered around hopelessly wondering how to get back to the fancy-schmancy room that he saw when he first arrived. Of course, the canary was in the dungeons, so it would be a while before he would find a way out and/or bump into a certain Potions master. Either or. Maybe both! Let's wait and see!

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	9. The It's All About Harry Cliché, Round 1

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 9 : The It's-All-About-Harry Cliché, Round 1**

~*~

_The stars are lovely tonight,_ thought Harry as he gazed up at the night sky that night. He was in the Astronomy Tower, and it was late. Once again Harry had been unable to sleep fitfully, and rather than facing another Voldemort dream and waking up his roommates, he had pulled on his Invisibility cloak and set off to roam the school. He let his feet lead him, and lead him they did to the door to the stairwell leading to the open Astronomy Tower.

As he sat on the cold floor with his back to the wall, eyes trained on the stars, Harry mused.

_If this keeps up, I might have to take Draco up on his offer... It was rather nice when we woke up together._

Harry paused, thinking back on that particular thought. _I can't believe I like Draco Malfoy. But... I do. Or at least I think I do. I don't know what I feel for him. I was kidding when I hinted that I wanted Malfoy as a bed partner... Not that I wouldn't. But I don't want a relationship with another person to be centered around sex. I want... love. And trust. And sharing. Could Draco give that to me?_

_Could anybody?_

_All anybody really wants me for is my name. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the savior of the world. If I wasn't famous, if I still had my parents... would I be as well-liked?_

_Bloody hell not._

_All of the girls and guys who want to be with me just want me for the fame. And Draco..._

_Draco's just as popular as me. The girls love him. So do the guys. He's suave, charming, good-looking, great at Quidditch, and he's a perfect gentleman. When he walks through crowds, they part for him without knowing. He's such a power figure, and..._

_Why would he ever like me? I'm just stupid old Harry. I'm too short, too skinny, my hair's a total mess, my glasses make me look like an idiot, I'm terrible at Potions, and... he's everything I'm not._

_Yet he's my equal. He can never beat me on the Quidditch field, but put aside all the cheating his team has done, and he's a pretty good Seeker. He always catches the Snitch; he was better than Cedric and Cho... And even I have a tough time with him. He's really good._

_He and 'Mione are nearly tied for best in the class... He's so good at Potions and Charms... I'm good at Defense, Transfiguration and Healing... His magic is very offensive. He goes straight in for the kill, he's so calm and precise..._

_And my magic's really defensive. We're such opposites. In magic, in looks, in houses, in standings..._

_I like him. He's nice. He's also true. He doesn't lie to you unless you're his enemy. He defends his friends. He's charming, graceful, cultured... He's always so in control, and he knows every aspect of a situation... He's so calculating and he's not afraid to tell his achievements. He brags a little, though. But he's so... so..._

_...Everything I'm not._

_And I like him. I really like him, because of all that. He challenges me. He doesn't worship me or put me on a pedestal like everyone else. He treats me like an equal._

_He likes me. Loves me, they said._

_I trust him._

_I feel safe with him. I didn't before. When he was near, alarms would ring in my head and I'd know he was doing something bad, like he was going to hurt me. But after Christmas last year, it left. Just... left. He didn't have any evil intentions for me, even though we still fought... and I started to trust him. It was like, I could trust him to be my enemy. I could trust that we still hated each other._

_Or at least I hated him._

_Do I hate him now?_

_No... I like him... a lot. And maybe... I could love him. Maybe he'd love me, too. I'd like for us to be in love..._

~*~

When Harry ambled into the common room at nine, water dripping from his longish black hair, he was surprised to find Seamus and Ron standing at odds.

Or, rather, Ron trying to kill Seamus while Seamus ducked behind chairs, third-years, and Dean.

Ron fumed as Seamus dived behind the fourth third-year this morning. "You bloody bastard!" he yelled, face red and fists clenched. "I didn't kill you last night because Harry was in there, but now...! I wouldn't care if he was standing right behind me! I'LL POUND YOU!" He leapt forward, pushing aside the third-year and reaching for Seamus, who yelped and ran to Dean, who stepped aside.

Harry was, in fact, standing behind Ron when Ron's statement was made, but he decided not to interfere, knowing that (a) Ron would kill him, too, and (b) if Ron didn't get his justice, there would NEVER be peace in Gryffindor Tower.

He felt a touch to his arm, and he turned to find Hermione standing beside him, her lips pursed. She glanced at him. He could tell she was annoyed, but she didn't stop him for the same reasons as he. (Unbeknownst to Hogwarts #1 Bachelor, she also didn't stop Ron because she thought Seamus deserved to be pounded into a pulp for hitting Harry.)

They both looked back at the fight just in time to see Ron punch Seamus in the stomach. Most of the Gryffindors winced. Harry sighed and started to step forward, but he was held back by Hermione.

"Don't," she whispered, and he nodded, a small frown on his handsome face.

Seamus, meanwhile, had lurched back, hugging his stomach and glaring at Ron. "It was an ACCIDENT, ya crazy git! I would NEVER intentionally hurt Harry, you know that!"

Ron snarled, blue eyes narrowing to steel. "Oh, do I? You're known to be quite dominant and harsh when you're fu—"

"Ron!" You know it had to be Hermione.

"...when you're with someone! Who says Harry won't be different?"

Seamus' hazel-green eyes had narrowed. "Just because I happen to like se—"

"Seamus!" Again, Hermione.

"...being in very physical relationships does not mean I'm the school slut! I am not a dominatrix, you know! I just like being on top!"

Ron snorted, letting his hands relax and resting them on his hips. "So, you're one of those arse bandi—"

"RON!"

Both combatants and most of the common room jumped at Harry's voice. The group turned to the dark-haired boy, Ron and Seamus looking abashed.

Harry glared at both of them. "I'll thank you not to insult homosexuals, Ron," he said softly, "as I myself am one." The room gasped, but Harry moved on, ignoring the surprise. "And leave it be. As much as I understand your need to hit him, I don't think that you need to be insulting his sex life. We _all_ know that Seamus hates unwilling partners, and he knows that I would certainly be unwilling. He's not going to rape me or anything. Leave him alone." He let his eyes connect with Ron's, letting his pleading and unhappiness into his expression. Ron winced.

"Sorry," he mumbled. Then he looked back, glaring at Seamus, who glared back. "But if he touches you again, Harry, I'll kill him."

Harry sighed, knowing he couldn't change Ron's mind. "Whatever," he said, waving a hand. "I'm going to breakfast. Coming, Hermione?"

Hermione smiled at him, and the two left the common room.

~*~

Over the next few days, Harry noticed that relations between Ron and Seamus were very hostile. The two sent each other dark looks during meals and in the dorm, while the others looked on in apprehension. Tension and feelings were escalating, and even Harry knew that there had to be a battle of some sorts.

What Harry didn't realize was that other tensions and feelings were escalating, all over the school. A certain dark-haired Hufflepuff was watching jealously as two power figures battled over what he could have had, while a mousy-looking boy glared at a blonde head sitting in front of the opposite wall. A certain redhead plotted her attack as a curly-haired blonde watched her fellow Slytherin prefect with more than admiration. More would join. Unknowingly, two houses warred over at the staff's table, and a small yellow fluff-ball journeyed toward its ever-brightening dream. A werewolf smiled and nodded with his neighbors, while at the same time his pet dog would watch the ongoings of the Great Hall with narrowed brown eyes.

Oh, yes. A war was itching to happen.

~*~

At breakfast on Tuesday, Severus Snape glared at Minerva McGonagall over his cup of coffee and Albus' beard. The Scottish witch glared back over her tea. Albus Dumbledore sat between them, supposedly blissfully unaware of the glaring contest he was centered between.

Severus narrowed his eyes. Minerva raised her eyebrow. Severus made his eyebrow twitch. Minerva widened her eyes.

They appraised each other coolly, respectful of their opponents.

Albus beamed happily at his students. Oh, he knew that Sevvie and Minnie were glaring death at each other, but he was much too interested in the thoughts of one of his students – Harry, of course – to pay any attention. As long as they didn't threaten his candy, he'd be fine.

Severus and Minerva stared each other down. Both were champions in their art. Over their years together, from student and professor to professor and professor, the two had kept a careful tally of their contests. They thrived in these spars. It was a hell of a lot better than spending lunch listening to Poppy go on and on and _on_ about this first-year's pink hair or that Keeper's broken leg.

A sudden movement, and Severus crowed with delight. "Ha, ha! You lose, Minerva!"

Minerva pursed her lips, glaring at her adversary and friend. "Oh, do be quiet, Severus. If you have to know, I had an eyelash in my eye."

He snorted, shooting her a sly smile. "That's what you say every time, Minerva."

She smirked back at him. "Whatever you say, Severus."

At that moment, something decidedly *yellow* shot through the air and straight to Albus. Albus blinked as he suddenly found his beard fuller of things than it usually was. With a heartfelt sigh he reached into his long white chin-mane and felt around.

Severus and Minerva stared at him.

Albus ignored them as he pulled a small yellow canary from his beard. "Oh," he said, staring down at his discovery. "What a lovely little bird."

Leave it to Dumbledore to be the school ditz.

The canary ruffled its feathers and nestled down into Albus' hand. Albus smiled at the little dem—I mean bea—er... thing. "Have you lost your way, dear?" he cooed to the mon—thing.

The dev—thing stared up at Albus with wide, shining, red-glo—sparkling eyes. "Chirp?" it inquired evi—sweetly.

Albus smiled back, unaware of or probably choosing to ignore the incredulous looks he was getting from most of the staff (and a bit of the student body). "Yes, yes, of course. But I'm sorry, you can't go there."

The hell be—thing suddenly lost all pretenses of being sweet and innocent. Albus looked taken aback.

"Well, how rude," he stated, his twinkling eyes narrowing.

And what commenced was henceforth known as "Der Kampf des Dummkopfen." Or, for you less German-literate readers, "The Battle of the Idiots."

Canary met Dumbledore as the two battled, staring hard into each other's eyes and trying oh-so-hard not to blink. Luckily for the canary, it had spent hours upon hours battling with one Dudley Dursley, who could sit and stare at one thing for days without even thinking of blinking (most of his practice came from watching that blasted telly). Luckily for Albus, he had had one-hundred-fifty-plus years to have staring contests with his brother, his friends, his professors, his cat, his Hogwarts staff, his students, Voldemort, and his great-niece's pet turtle.

Unfortunately for Albus, the canary chose that moment to unleash its Secret Weapon – a Stick of Pocky.

Staring contest was forgotten, and all professors present stared as Albus gasped in delight and seized the pocky. The headmaster of Hogwarts happily stuffed the chocolate-coated stick of delicious delightful delicacy into his mouth, completely oblivious to the wide-eyed stares and dropped jaws pointed in his direction (we think). The canary fluttered down to the table and let out a full-fledged Canary Cackle.

Which it choked on, causing its voice to crack and making it fall into Severus Snape's cup of coffee.

Silence reigned the table.

Severus stared down at the canary with an expression not unlike the one a person would wear when they looked at the bottom of their shoe after trekking through a swamp. The canary shivered, not from Severus' disgusted glare, but from the coldness of the coffee and the bitter taste in its mouth. The yellow... thing... climbed out of the cup and shook itself, spraying droplets of Snape-Coffee all over all in distance. Or, Severus, Minerva, Albus, and Remus.

Severus growled. Remus inched away while Padfoot rolled his eyes under the table. The Potions Master locked eyes with the Canary of Doom.

Five minutes later, Severus blinked. The canary's black eyes took on an evil glint, and it soared up, leaving a lovely farewell-peck on Severus' nose and a gift in his coffee.

Minerva burst out laughing, while under the table, Padfoot tried to snicker as a dog. Albus continued to munch contently on his pocky as Severus whirled around, fixing Minerva with a twitchy glare.

Minerva giggled herself silly, laying a hand on the table and holding the other to her chest. "Oh, oh! You lost to a _bird!_ I can't believe it! It's perfect!" she got out before breaking into another spiel. Severus snarled and stood, turning to sweep away with whatever dignity he still had intact.

As the slim, sexy figure disappeared around the corner, Minerva continued to laugh, unaware of the bug-eyed looks her Gryffindors were sending her.

~*~

At the Gryffindor table, Harry turned to the rest of his friends, his eyes wide. "Please tell me that Professor McGonagall isn't laughing her arse off," he said faintly, green eyes almost vacant.

Ron shook his head fervently, blue eyes still fixed on their head of house. "Bloody hell," he said, not really thinking.

Suddenly the laughter stopped, and all of the Gryffindors were fixed with a firm glare from one newly collected Minerva McGonagall. The Gryffindor table meeped as a whole and quickly looked away, all eyes trained on their plates. McGonagall harrumphed and went back to her tea.

Colin shook his head, clearing the echoing laugh away. He glanced up, immediately glaring at his archenemy, Draco Malfoy. The blonde Slytherin looked up from his conversation with Blaise and met Colin's glare easily. Colin bristled.

Someone moved, and Colin now found himself glaring into brilliant blue eyes with long eyelashes and subtly shadowed eyelids. Colin felt himself go weak in the knees. _Beautiful..._ he thought, staring at Pansy Parkinson.

Pansy Parkinson sniffed, glaring at the ninny who had dared to make eyes at Draco. She had grown into an elegant, beautiful young woman, her 'pug-face' as Blaise had called it having faded into grown-up features and high cheekbones. Pansy lifted her chin a bit, surveying Draco's attacker with supremacy and arrogance. The pale blue eyes she was glaring into widened a bit, and the mouse-like boy blinked. Pansy smirked and turned back to her conversation with Millicent.

Across the hall, Colin felt his jellified knees start to resolidify. _She's so beautiful. Perfect. I have to get a picture of her! She's perfect for the other half of my album! She compliments Harry's dark looks so well..._ Legs now firm, Colin stood from his seat and marched out of the Great Hall, head high and camera ready.

~*~

Over in the boys' bathroom on the fifth floor, Neville Longbottom was having a problem. He was currently being cornered by a small second-year ghost who looked very angry and very scary. Neville gulped, feeling his back touch the wall.

Moaning Myrtle glared down her nose at the tall boy, sniffing in disdain. "You will tell me where Harry Potter is," she ordered, putting her translucent hands on her hips.

Neville trembled, but still felt the need to protect his friend. "No," he whispered. "You shouldn't be here. This is a boy's bathroom!"

Myrtle rolled her eyes and floated up until she was eye-to-eye with the blonde boy. "Listen, you," she hissed, ignoring the urge to cry at the rejection, "I want to see Harry! Tell me where he is, or I'll..."

Neville yelped and reached up to cover his eyes. "Don't hurt me!" came the muffled cry, and the clumsy boy shot forward, running through Myrtle and out the door.

Myrtle blinked, whirling around to watch the door bang closed. "Oh..." She stared at the closed door. Sniff. "I guess... he doesn't want to talk to MOANING MYRTLE!" she ended in a wail, causing all of the sinks to turn on and start to overflow the bathroom.

The door opened again, and Crazy Colin stepped in, not noticing the wetness of the floor. He looked up from his camera and raised an eyebrow at the crying ghost.

"What are you doing up here, Myrtle?" he asked good-naturedly, walking through the water over to one of the toilets. 

As Colin closed the stall behind him, Myrtle sniffled. Colin was always polite to her, so why not? "One of the seventh years was in here," she whimpered, "and he was so mean to me! He wouldn't tell me where my Harry was!"

A zipper was heard at the end of a series of other sounds, and after a moment the stall opened. Colin peered out, looking up at Myrtle.

"What do you want with Harry _now?_" he asked suspiciously. They both knew about the other's obsession with the dark-haired boy.

Myrtle immediately stopped crying, glaring down at Colin. "That's none of your business," she said primly.

The two locked eyes.

Colin won the staring contest when Myrtle tried to cheat and use her ghost abilities. The sixth-year stalker of one Harry Potter shook his head as he washed his hands and picked up his camera. "Leave Harry alone, Myrtle," he said. "He's mine." With that final statement and silent promise, he left.

Myrtle sulked. "Everyone's always so mean to me!" she whined.

~*~

Back at the Gryffindor table, Ron and Hermione were having a heated discussion beside an oblivious Harry. The raven-haired young man was staring dazedly into his pumpkin juice, unaware of the angry Looks that Ron and Hermione were shooting at each other. The rest of the Gryffindors were used to these arguments between their beloved Ron and Hermione and were generally ignoring the two.

Hermione's lovely brown eyes were flashing. "I know you want to kill Seamus, Ron, but really! It was an accident, and you --"

Ron fumed. "Aren't you even a _bit_ mad?! HE HIT HARRY!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Of course I'm angry, but I'm not going stark raving BONKERS over it. The world is not going to end if Harry gets hurt."

"But he's abusing Harry!"

"Have you forgotten that he's not even with Harry anymore? It wasn't abuse because he wasn't hitting Harry like there was no tomorrow _knowing it was Harry. He was in a fight with another person and lashed out at Harry in defense! He had no idea it was __Harry, he just thought it was another enemy."_

Ron glared at her before trying another tactic. "He's a total slut! He wants Harry's body! He'll break Harry's heart after fu—"

"Ron!"

"...using him!"

Hermione sighed. "He did say he wouldn't force Harry..."

"Hermione!"

The two glared at each other.

And glared.

And then glared some more.

After a full five minutes of intense glowering, Hermione finally looked away. "No physical fighting," she sniffed, angry at her loss.

Ron smiled triumphantly, but acquiesced. "Can I curse him?"

"Nothing deadly."

"All right!" Ron punched a fist into the air, his elbow knocking into Harry's goblet and pushing it over.

Harry jumped as his whirlpool of orange disappeared into the mass that was his eggs. "Gah! Ron!"

Ron lowered his fist, looking sheepish. "Sorry, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes and went to cleaning up the mess. Ron looked at Hermione, who was rolling her eyes, and shrugged. Hermione shook her head at him and opened up a large text, leaving Ron to his breakfast.

Across the table, Seamus sighed. Dean poked him with the end of his fork. "Oi, what's up with you?"

Seamus glared at him. "What do you think, moron?"

"I think you need to get a life, git."

"Idiot."

"Dork."

"Pansy."

"Pansy PARKINSON."

"She's hot now."

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right! I am Seamus! Seamus is always right."

"Right. I'll remember that next time I fail a test copying off you."

"Aw, shaddup."

"No."

"...Moron."

"Git."

"Argh!" Both jumped at the yell and simultaneously turned to stare at Ron. Ron's bacon had been hijacked moments before by a hungry Pig, who was delivering the Daily Post. Dean rolled his eyes, Seamus snickered, and Ron's head snapped up to glare at both of them.

Dean shrugged at the redhead and went back to his breakfast. Seamus, on the other hand, shot a nasty look at Ron and glared back fiercely. Of course, a glaring contest ensued.

And the winner is... Seamus! All of Seamus' five-and-a-half (trust me, you don't want to know.) Demon!Seamuses cackled and started doing a circle-chant on Seamus' head. Seamus smirked at Ron, who was starting to turn red again, and looked at his prize.

Only to be blinded as he heard a "click!" in the vicinity. "Gah!" Seamus cried, covering his eyes and reaching for his wand (out of reflex, I'm sure). What he grabbed was NOT his wand, and trust me, Dean was NOT amused.

After his vision cleared, Seamus rubbed his head from getting hit by Dean and looked up to glare at the returned Colin. "Oi, did you know it's illegal to take pictures of irate Gryffindors?" he asked sweetly, eyes dripping acid.

Colin's pale blue eyes, before focused on his lovely dizzy Harry, snapped up and locked with bright hazel. "No, Seamus," Colin ground out, eyes dripping venom in return, "I didn't. When was this law made?"

"Just now, when you BLINDED ME WITH YOUR BLOODY CAMERA!"

"Well, SOR-RY. I NEVER meant to BLIND you with my BLOODY CAMERA."

"Sarcasm is not appreciated unless I am in control of it. Please leave, Colin."

"No, I don't think I will, Seamus."

"Colin."

"Seamus."

Seamus felt his eye twitch as Colin looked on arrogantly. "Little prick."

"Actually, mine's rather –"

"Small." 

Colin's eye twitched this time. _That little..._ "At least I got the juice."

Seamus smirked. "Yes, I noticed that when you spr—"

"Seamus!"

Seamus winced. "Sorry, Hermione."

Colin laughed. "Controlled by a woman."

"At least I'm not controlled by a camera."

Colin nearly snarled, and set his gaze from "haughtily unamused" to "target locked: destroy." Seamus took on the challenge with vigor and glared back.

After four minutes, during which Harry regained his sight and Ron was stopped from laughing by a whap from Hermione, Colin beat Seamus. Seamus sulked and turned to glare at Dean, who had done absolutely nothing to deserve the Irishman's ire and looked wounded at the dark look in Seamus' eyes.

Colin smirked haughtily again and sat down, immediately fixing his Fan Girl Glazed Expression(tm) on Harry, who shivered and inched closer to Ron.

Further down the table was Ginny, who was feeling a bit miffed at her fellow sixth-year and co-president of the HPFC. _Can't he see that Harry needs to be approached more subtly than that? _she sighed, turning back to her toast. _Something more like... a parade, or a festival. Harry Potter Day, even! Colin's way is far too strong. Poor Harry._

Ginny looked up, subtly looking back at Harry. She was stopped on the way, however, by a glaring pair of hazel eyes.

Seamus had decided that Dean wasn't worthy of his glare and thus he had glared around the table to find someone better to glare at. When a quiet pair of brown eyes swung into view, Seamus grinned evilly and went to work.

Ginny glared back at Seamus, wondering what the hell was up with the git now. Seamus leered at her. Ginny blinked, startled.

Victory filled the hazel eyes, and Ginny inwardly cursed. _Damn him! She pouted and looked away, only to come into eye contact with Lavender Brown. Lavender was glaring at her. Ginny, eager to prove her worthiness, stared back._

And lost. Pitifully. Ginny sniffled a bit and closed her eyes. _Oh, Harry..._

Lavender rolled her eyes. _Serves her right for making eyes at the seventh years. That's MY job._

Ginny opened her brown eyes and looked up. Undaunted by her loss, she sought out another competitor. Thus, Parvati Patil became Ginny's next victim. The redhead glared at the older girl fiercely, determined to prove herself.

Parvati, unprepared for such an attack, lost. Ginny's day looked a little better. Lavender heaved a sigh and turned to comfort her best friend, shooting Ginny a dark look. Ginny didn't notice.

After cheering Parvati up with a tidbit about Mandy Brocklehurst's brother, Lavender glanced furtively at Seamus, her current crush. _I'm so glad Dean agreed to a break. Now, I can look at his best friend all I want, and he can watch Parvati without me getting on his case. Much._

Lavender felt eyes on her. She glanced over Neville's shoulder at the Slytherin table and found dark russet eyes staring at her. _Oh, my. Is that Blaise Zabini? _Indeed it was. Blaise Zabini was glaring at Lavender with a quiet, unobtrusive possessiveness of the hazel-eyed boy between them. Lavender, never one to turn down a challenge, looked back primly. This only made the glare darken, and the russet eyes flashed red. Lavender was startled; eyes weren't supposed to flash red!

She looked away quickly, then froze as she realized she had lost. _No! her mind cried out, and she looked at Blaise desperately, seeking some assurance that she wasn't doomed._

She was. Blaise's smirk confirmed it in a moment. Lavender's heart sank. _I've lost him._

Seamus was oblivious to the rivalry over him. Thus, he was completely unaware of the next battle, between one smug Blaise Zabini and one confused Harry Potter, even if he was the instigator.

Seamus had decided to begin his (very subtle) seduction of the beautiful Gryffindor that morning. Taking up the guise of talking about Quidditch to Dean, he pulled his foot out of his shoe and let it rest on the inside of Harry's calf.

Harry jumped and shot a startled look at Seamus. Seamus, ever fond of the black curls when they rose and dropped when Harry's head turned, winked at the youngest seventh-year Gryffindor and answered Dean's question. Under the table he let his foot inch up before settling between Harry's knees.

The Seeker blushed, predictably. And Seamus nearly crooned as the red crept across Harry's cheeks, over his ears, and down his neck.

Harry's mind was in a whirl. _Why? Why me? Why HIM? Why, why, why?! Why can't Seamus go after Ron or something? I just want to crush over Draco in peace..._ He looked past Seamus at Draco, who was in conversation with Goyle. _Draco..._

Blaise, beside Draco, looked up and _glared_ at Harry. Harry started, staring at Blaise. _Why is he glaring at me?_ he asked himself, staring at the tall Slytherin. Blaise only glared harder.

Harry suddenly jumped as he felt Seamus' foot go places he wasn't sure he wanted to exist. "Seamus!" he squealed, eyes snapping from Blaise's to Seamus'. Seamus grinned innocently at him. 

"Yes, love?"

Harry blushed deeper but glared at the Irishman, reaching under the table and pointedly removing the sandy-haired boy's foot from his lap. Seamus pouted at him, and Harry glanced back at Blaise.

Who was staring at the back of Seamus' head impassively. Harry blinked.

_It's Seamus,_ he realized in a flash. _He wants Seamus. And Seamus wants me. So he wants to get rid of me._

Harry felt a sulk coming on. _It's not like I want Seamus to like me. I'd be perfectly fine if he got with Blaise. At least Seamus wouldn't hit on me anymore. Merlin, Blaise! PLEASE ask Seamus out!_ Completely into his sulk, Harry looked across the room at Draco, wishing the Slytherin would look up and force Blaise at wand point to ask Seamus out. However, Harry's hopes were thwarted as a curly blonde head turned around and bright blue eyes glared at him.

_Oh, crap. Pansy's mad at me._ Harry's eyes widened when he saw Pansy glaring at him. He felt startled for a moment... and then became indignant. _How dare she be mad at me! I didn't do anything! I'm the victim in all this! It's not my fault! How dare she! With fervor and a growing need to pout, Harry glared back._

Pansy was indeed startled by this – who would have ever thought that Harry Potter would show a backbone! She tilted her chin up, staring down her nose at Harry, issuing the look that made normal boys quiver in their knees and try to hide their arousal.

However, as we had established, Harry was no normal boy. Therefore the young heir of Gryffindor was neither intimidated nor aroused by Pansy's Look of Supremacy. Harry even went so far as to raise his chin and issue the Harry Potter Glare of Terror, which had inspired knee-quivering for a far different reason in Death Eaters and Dursleys alike.

Pansy felt a shiver run down her spine, and she quickly looked away as fear overcame her. After a moment the feeling passed, and Pansy realized belatedly what had happened. Her pert mouth opened slightly in shock, and her blue eyes widened.

_THAT RAT!_

Enraged she whirled around and fixed a dark glare on the Boy Who Lived, but said Golden Boy was oblivious and already involved in a conversation with the older Weasley. Pansy felt her eye twitch. _That Harry Potter...!_ Ignoring Millicent's lifted eyebrow, Pansy turned back to her pumpkin juice and plotted ways to make Potter feel _pain._

Needless to say, Pansy Parkinson did not deal with loss well.

After a moment or two, though, Pansy felt eyes on her. With a snarled curse on society and a choice phrase about 'bloody Gryffindors,' Pansy turned around again. This time, she met brown eyes instead of green.

Little Ginny Weasley was looking at her curiously, no doubt jealous of Harry's gaze on the beautiful Slytherin girl. Pansy wrinkled her nose, disgusted at the rather high percent of Gryffindors Who Wanted To Annoy Her that day, and sent a chilling glare to the younger girl. She smirked and felt somewhat justified at her earlier loss as the redheaded girl squeaked and looked away.

Across the table Draco watched Pansy's antics with a raised eyebrow. _I swear, those girls become stranger and stranger every day, he thought to himself, eyeing the other Slytherin seventh-years. Draco sighed, exchanging a sidelong glance with Blaise. Blaise smirked back at him. Draco smirked to himself, while the younger Slytherin girls sighed in unison._

Ignoring them Draco let his silver gaze sweep over the Great Hall. At the Gryffindor table, Harry was arguing with Weasley, while the other Gryffindors around him were either sulking, smirking, or staring at the aforementioned Gryffindor Seeker with adoration -- to be precise, Colin Creevey. Draco sneered. _You care nothing of Harry, only of the Boy Who Lived._ Draco looked away, disgusted at the sixth-year. To his surprise, though, he found his gaze caught by a pair of dark eyes.

_Finch-Fletchley._

The tall Hufflepuff was staring at him, a light challenge in the dark eyes. Draco raised an eyebrow. _Oh? You want to go after Harry again? Did you not learn your lesson, little bird?_ With a barely concealed grin he stared back, silver eyes narrowed and looking rather demonic.

It was no surprise to Draco when Justin went pale and looked away. _Hufflepuffs are such pushovers, Draco thought to himself. He looked back at Harry._

Only to discover _another_ pair of eyes glaring at him.

_Ah, I was wondering when she'd notice._

Ginny Weasley was glaring at him with a hate born only of the jealousy a woman would feel when she caught someone staring at her man. Draco smirked, gazing back, his eyes cold. _Harry's mine, Weasley. You shouldn't be looking at a claimed man._

So he was a bit possessive of Harry. So what? Draco knew that Harry would never want him. Yet if Harry was to get together with anybody, it would _not be the Weasley girl. She didn't deserve him._

Draco stared the Weasley girl down with ease, feeling only a bit smug when she looked away. He lifted his goblet and brought it to his lips, letting the cool liquid quench his dry throat, even as his eyes sought out Harry's lithe figure.

_Here's to you, Harry. May you always be happy._

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	10. The Good Old Detention Cliché, Take 1

**The Anti-Angst Movement******

**Chapter 10 : The Good Old Detention Cliché, Take 1**

~*~

It was with great apprehension that Harry opened the note delivered to him by a school owl on Friday morning later that week. With a feeling of dread forming in the pit of his stomach, Harry exchanged glances with his best friends and began to read.

_Your detention will take place at __eleven o'clock__ tomorrow night and the next two Saturdays in the __Astronomy__Tower__. You will be joined by Mr. Malfoy._

_Professor Snape_

Harry sulked as Ron and Hermione exchanged glances over his head. "Why with Draco?" the raven-haired boy moaned, plunking his elbows down on the table and hiding his face in his hands. "I was right! The man lives for torture! He must know I like Draco, so he's going to put me in the same room for a full hour with him, and he's going to watch secretly from above, just to watch us sweat as we try not to jump each other! He'll laugh about it the whole time! Hermioneeeee... make him let me go alooone..."

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's whining tone. "Don't worry, sweetums," she crooned softly, rubbing Harry's back and ignoring the way Ron pretended to gag. "I don't think Snape knows that you like Draco... nor do I think he's going to watch secretly and laugh about it."

Harry glowered at his pumpkin juice goblet through his fingers. "Stupid Snape."

Ron snorted. "I still think you don't deserve this, Harry. It wasn't your fault. Snape's just an old git."

Harry nodded fervently while mentally adding to his Ways To Really Piss Snape Off list. Hermione sighed, and across the hall Draco sent a scathing glare at the Potions professor.

~*~

Lunchtime on Saturday found Draco lounging on his bed. He was feeling far too comfortable to go down to the Great Hall; instead he had asked a house elf to bring up something for him. A few minutes later, Draco was happily tucking into a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of icy pumpkin juice.

After his third sandwich, Draco lay back with his goblet of pumpkin juice in hand. He closed his grey eyes with a sigh. "This is the life," he murmured, taking a sip of juice. "If only I had Harry next to me... then it'd be perfect."

He took another sip, then stretched his arm out and set his drink on the table. He rolled onto his side, surveying the otherwise empty bed. Apparently, Draco was the type to talk to himself aloud, for he continued to speak his thoughts to the room. "He was so warm when he spent the night here. So small... he fit so perfectly in my arms. Like he was meant to be there."

Draco rolled onto his back again, staring at the ceiling, his almost silvery hair splayed about his head. "I wonder where he is now. Most likely eating with Granger and the Weasel. I wonder if he's noticed I'm gone..."

He didn't speak aloud anymore but instead in his mind. _I really have it bad for him, don't I? Draco, you old sod..._

He thought back to when it had all changed. To when he had gone from loathing, to indifference, to caring.

~*~

_"Keep him. My father will have no need for him anymore," Draco said softly, glaring down at the writhing lump that was Wormtail. _Worthless rot._ He hoped that the Ministry would give the worm a fitting punishment..._

_"Malfoy..."_

_Potter. Draco turned and stared down at the shorter boy. He saw the Gryffindor's eyes widen but brushed it aside. "What?" he asked quietly._

_"I..."_

_Oh, so now Potter couldn't speak. Draco watched as a trail of blood trickled down Potter's cheek. He lifted a hand to wipe it away thoughtlessly, ignoring the way Potter gasped. "You shouldn't be here, Potter. He's coming." _And then he'll kill you.__

_He had watched the small battle between Potter and Wormtail earlier, and when Wormtail had run he had followed. He had watched how the rat had stopped short after about twenty paces, touched his Mark, then turned back and run towards where Potter was. Draco had run ahead to warn Potter._

_Instead, he had run too far and found he was ahead of Potter. With quick precision he had turned around and walked right into Potter's path._

_Too late. Wormtail was coming up on Potter fast, and Potter had had no idea. Draco had narrowed his eyes and sent a curse at the rat, knowing he could do little else. Potter had stopped in his tracks, and Draco had stood still for a long moment as he gazed into widening green eyes. Then Potter had turned around at Wormtail's scream. Draco had chuckled and walked up beside him, glaring down at the rat as well before speaking._

_Potter looked down at Wormtail, his gaze hardening. Quietly he uttered two spells that knocked the older wizard out and lifted him into the air. Potter looked back to Draco._

_"Why don't you capture me for him? He's going to kill me sooner or later," Potter whispered, and Draco suddenly noticed how dark his hair was, how sunken in the skin around Potter's eyes was. How desperate those green eyes, usually hidden behind black frames, now peeking over the black curves in clarity, were as they cried out to Draco. How pale Potter's skin was when it stood out against the deep red of his blood._

_Potter's blood, so wet and red and flowing with Potter's life, Potter's passion for life, his anger and hate for Draco... so red..._

_Draco absently rubbed his fingers together, staring down at Potter. _He's almost given up hope,_ he realized. _He wants to die.__

_He didn't want Potter to die. Whom would he pick on? Whom would he fight with? Whom could he depend on to keep himself from going insane with the boredom of school life?_

_Suddenly Draco realized that he depended on Potter. That he needed Potter. _Bloody hell, _he thought to himself. He's waiting for You-Know-Who to kill him. He wants to die, to leave me alone. With the Dark Lord._

No. That... _thing_ won't have him. He's _mine. If anyone is to kill Potter, it will be _me.__

_With that thought in mind, Draco leaned into Potter's personal space, so close that their noses brushed against the other's. "Because _I_ want to be the one who destroys you, Potter. You're mine," he whispered, absently noticing the cool temperature of Potter's breath on his lips._

_Suddenly he wanted to taste those lips, so flushed and inviting as they were. When Potter closed his eyes --_ those beautiful eyes --_ Draco leaned forward more, brushing his lips against Harry's._

_A mere second, and then Draco stepped back and turned around, walking away. His heart was beating wildly within his chest, and Draco was sure the whole forest could hear it._

I kissed Potter,_ he thought. _I kissed Potter, and I liked it.__

Oh, I really, really liked it.

_Draco could feel those green eyes on his back as he walked away. When he was sure he was far enough away, he ducked behind a tree and leant against it, bringing his bloody fingers to his face. He stared at the drying blood. _How bad was his injury?_ Draco peered around the tree trunk to where Potter had been standing. Both Potter and Wormtail were gone, Potter's footprints leading up to the castle. Draco breathed out._

He's safe. Dumbledore will take care of him. Wormtail's in their hands now. And Potter's safe.

~*~

_The next week or so was quiet, with Potter in the infirmary and the school enjoying the break. Draco watched quietly from beside Blaise and Gregory as Granger and Weasley ran off after every meal to see Potter. Absently he would wonder how Potter was doing before Blaise would ask him a question._

_One night he couldn't take the anticipation anymore. After making sure his roommates were asleep, Draco crept out of bed and snuck up to the Infirmary Ward. He found Potter's bed rather quickly, as there was no one else in the room._

_Harry was asleep. The bright green eyes were enclosed by pale skin and dark eyelashes. Draco sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at his rival, the boy he couldn't keep his mind off of._

_"You're just a boy," he whispered, reaching out to touch the spot where Harry's blood had run down his cheek. "Just a boy, and yet..._

_"I want you. Need you, even. I made a claim on you. To be the one to bring you down... I realized something last night. I don't want to you die by my hands. I want you to die beside me." With a frustrated sigh he pulled his hand away and clenched his fingers into a fist, glaring down at the bony knuckles. "Why do I feel like this? Like I would rather protect you than fight against you? Just the thought of the Dark Lord closing his slimy hands around your neck... makes me want to retch._

_"You're only a boy... a stupid, rash, stubborn, impatient little whelp of a boy... You annoy me more than anyone else has in my entire life. Just the slight smirk from you, and I want to strangle you. Yet... I can't stop thinking about you, about how it'd be nice not to try to kill each other. I like our arguments, just not... so impassioned by hate and anger. I don't want to hate you._

_"You refused my hand... but still I yearned for yours. I hated you for turning me away, so I hurt you out of hurt. I want you to be mine. I want your hand in my own. You have no idea how I feel, do you, Potter?_

_"No... you're only a stupid boy who doesn't understand. You'll never understand how I burned with loathing and want every time I saw you. You'll never understand how much I hate myself for hating you, how much I wish you didn't hate me. I've grown up, Potter... Harry. But so have you._

_"You're just a boy..._

_"...But so am I."_

_In the darkness of the Infirmary ward, a boy leaned down to steal a kiss from the lips of another boy. The silent veil of night protected the two from vying eyes, protected the first boy as he left the room and ran back to his bed, protected the second boy as he woke from his long slumber and touched his lips, wondering what had woken him._

~*~__

Draco smiled to himself, opening his eyes from his memories. _I don't know how, Harry... but I fell in love with you, on the eve of a glorious day, when you bled in front of me and begged to die at someone else's hands. You will never die at anyone's hands but mine. And I could never kill you, Harry. I love you._

~*~

That night Harry trudged his way up steep steps to the Astronomy Tower with a pout and a disgruntled expression. "Bloody Seamus for attacking bloody Draco in bloody Potions," he muttered to himself. "And bloody Snape for giving me bloody detention. Bloody Sirius for not interfering. Bloody Ron. Bloody Hermione. And most of all, bloody Pansy for getting mad at me over nothing!" he fumed, clenching his fists. "Just because I like Draco doesn't mean that she has to get all pissy about it. And how would she know, anyway? Stupid brat, I bet she can read minds..." He turned a corner into a landing. "Stopping me in the hallway and saying," he mimicked Pansy's voice in an unflattering way, "'I'm onto you, Harry Potter, and you won't get away with it!' And Ron just laughed! Bloody Ron... Bloody everyone!"

So involved in his tirade was he that Harry never noticed the person standing in his path until he walked into a broad chest.

"Ow." Harry stepped back and rubbed his nose where it had hit Draco's chin. Pouty green eyes glared up at amused silver ones. "Bloody hell. This is all your fault."

A blonde eyebrow rose. "I see. Had a bad day?"

"You have no idea."

Draco smiled at him, and Harry felt just a bit better. He smiled back – just the tiniest bit, though. He was still in a Very Bad Mood.

Together they walked the rest of the way to the Astronomy Tower. When they reached the door, it opened just before Harry could turn the handle. Snape leered down at him, and Harry felt his anger quell under the harsh glare of his Potions professor.

Draco touched a hand to the small of his back, and Harry shook himself and stepped past the tall man. Draco walked in behind him, and Snape shut the door. Both boys turned to face their professor.

Harry immediately wilted at the evil look on Snape's face. Draco merely raised an eyebrow. Snape's pale lips curled into a sneer.

"Since you are so intent on fighting these days, Mr. Malfoy, you will stay in this room for an hour with Mr. Potter without a single argument. If the two of you fight, I will deduct ten points from each of your houses. Yes, Draco, that means Slytherin, too." Draco glared at his head of house. "I will return in an hour." With that, the ex-Slytherin turned and exited the room dramatically.

Harry stared after him. "How d'ya think he gets his robes to flutter like that?" he asked Draco.

Draco shrugged. "Don't look at me. Must be some charm we haven't learned yet."

"Right... I'll ask Hermione about it."

"Mmm."

"So..."

"Mmm..."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Draco broke it by crossing the room and sitting down against the wall. Harry hesitated a moment before following and sitting next to the Slytherin. Draco kept his hand from taking Harry's; Harry kept his hand from reaching for Draco's.

Both boys sighed inwardly.

Harry _really_ wished that crushes weren't meant to be secrets. He wanted Draco to _know_ about his feelings; Harry wanted to climb the highest tower of the castle and scream at the top of his lungs, _I LOVE DRACO MALFOY!_ But if everyone found out that he liked Draco... and that Draco liked him back... what would Draco's father think? He'd murder Draco! Harry couldn't let that happen. So he couldn't tell Draco.

Draco _really_ wished that he had some wine. Ah, chardonnay... sweet and bubbly on his tongue... Ah, his father's red wine! So deep and passionate, how he'd love to lick that off Harry's chest... Ah, a light white wine. To serve with breakfast à la Harry. Mmm... Harry...

Harry stole a glance at Draco's hand. Draco watched Harry out of the corner of his eye.

Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Harry felt some of his earlier ire returning. "Why do I have to be here?" he mumbled, hunching down against the wall and spreading his straightened legs out. "Stupid Snape."

Draco turned his head to look at Harry. "He's not that bad."

"Oh, yeah. You, Mr. I'm-Snape's-Pet-And-Proud-Of-It, wouldn't know how to combine 'Snape' and 'bad' in a sentence if it killed you."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "That's not true, Potter."

"Is too."

"Not."

"It is too, Malfoy! You always get off easy in his class. He _loves you."_

Draco resisted the urge to hit Harry upside the head. "Are you always like this?"

"Only when I'm with selfish Slytherin gits."

"Potter!"

Harry sat up and turned to face Draco, a fierce glare in his green eyes. "Well, I'm sick of it! All I have to do is breathe and he takes fifty points from Gryffindor! All you have to do is blink and he spends half the class complimenting you! He never gives credit to those who actually _try in there!"_

Draco bristled. "Just because I don't exactly try doesn't mean that I don't deserve credit. I like his class. I like Potions. Severus likes people who try as well as _understand_ the concepts of Potions, and there aren't many people who do that!"

"Hermione. He always yells at her."

"Because she offers help to those who can do it on their own."

"Why does he always yell at the Gryffindors? At Neville? He's such a favoritist!"

"So?"

"Draco!"

A smirk. "What?"

Harry huffed and glared at his rival/crush. "Anyway..."

"Mmm?"

"I'm just mad at him because he gave me detention when I wasn't even part of the fight..."

"..."

"And because he's a royal git."

"Oh, _Harry._"

"Well he _is._"

"I guess I can't disagree to that."

Harry grinned, and Draco smiled back.

It was then that Draco remembered that some seventh-year last year had hidden a stash of butterbeer somewhere in the Tower. With a smirk worthy of his house, Draco pushed himself up and scoured the room. He ignored the confused look Harry sent him and strode across the room to the opposite wall. He took out his wand and began tapping stones with it, muttering under his breath, "Where is it..."

Ten minutes later, Draco found his prize. The stone shook a bit before pulling out of the wall and levitating to the side, revealing an almost glowing stash of a dozen bottles of butterbeer. Draco crowed with delight, seized four of the bottles, and turned back to face his companion.

Harry was staring at him with blank green eyes. "Draco," he said slowly, as if speaking to a volatile person, "what are you doing?"

Draco flashed an evil grin at his crush. "Getting butterbeer, of course. I'm not going insane, Potter."

"You sure about that?"

"Quite."

"Good..."

Draco smirked and walked back to his fellow prisoner. "I heard that someone had left a stash of this last year. Right before graduating, he said that anyone who could find it could have it. So, I guess I can have it." He sat down beside Harry and passed over a bottle.

Harry took it absently, but really, he was focused too much on the Slytherin to pay attention to it. "This reminds me of second year somehow."

Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

Harry nearly blushed like a schoolgirl, but decided that he had done that far too much in the last two weeks and didn't. "One time, you were just sitting there, and there was a little box beside you on a table. You just reached down and asked me an—erk."

"..."

"I mean... you asked... well, crap."

"Explain, Potter."

"Um, right." Harry said his next words very quickly. "Ron and Hermione and I made a Polyjuice Potion before Christmas break in second year and we stole hairs from Millicent Bulstrode, Crabbe, and Goyle so that we could pretend to be them for an hour and ask you if you were the heir of Slytherin, only Hermione didn't get to go because she turned into a human-cat thing 'cause she had grabbed the hairs of Millicent's cat and so it was just me and Ron and while we were in there you picked up someone's gift and asked us if it was ours and when we said no you put it in your pocket, you thief!"

Draco's mouth had fallen open in the middle of Harry's litany and the Slytherin was staring at Harry with widened grey eyes. Harry gulped, fought with a blush and lost, and quickly opened his butterbeer and took a swig.

And immediately started choking when Draco burst out laughing.

"Gah!" Harry sputtered, spewing butterbeer all over the floor. Beside him, Draco was chortling uncontrollably. Harry would have glared at him had he not been choking on his drink. With another snort, Draco lifted a hand and began to hit Harry's back to help clear his windpipe. After a moment, Harry finally regained his breath and some semblance of his sanity.

"You," he wheezed, glaring up at Draco through his eyelashes, "will be the death of me."

Draco only grinned at him, and Harry sighed exasperatedly. The Gryffindor picked up his butterbeer again and took another drink, wrinkling his nose at the taste. _Must be old or something,_ he thought and shrugged before drinking some more. Draco grinned at him. "You know what your problem is, Potter?"

"That I can't stop falling for sexy Slytherins?" Harry muttered.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing..."

"Right... anyway. Your problem is that you're too tense. Because of this whole Evil Dark Wizard Bent On Killing You business, you don't have any relaxation time." Ignoring Harry's Oh-So-You-Finally-Figured-It-Out look, Draco set his unopened drink down and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Lie down."

Harry's reaction: to blush like a schoolgirl!

Draco rolled his eyes. "Randy old goat, aren't you, Harry?" _Oh my god. His mind is more perverted than I thought. YES!_

Harry glared at him. "Shut up." _Oh my god. I'm a randy old goat now. Why me? Why???_ (Devil!Harry congratulated himself on a job well done.)

"That's what I thought. I'm just going to give you a massage."

"Oh..." Harry sighed, took another drink, and lay down on the floor. Draco followed suit by sitting on the Gryffindor's hips. Harry buried his face in his arms as his face heated up more. "If you tell a soul about this, I'll murder you in your sleep," he mumbled, wishing that Draco wasn't just giving him a massage... then mentally smacking himself and shaking a finger at his perverted side. (Devil!Harry sulked once more.)

Draco snorted and laid his hands on Harry's back. With careful movements, he began to dig his fingers gently into the tense muscles and loosen them up.

Harry sighed. _It won't be so bad. It's not like he'll take advantage of me. He wouldn't do that..._

After a few minutes of loosening knots and generally turning Harry's muscles into goo, Harry let out a soft moan. Draco froze. _That sound... Dimly he felt heat begin to pool under his belt, and quickly he thought of things to chase that heat away. _Severus in a tutu. Dumbledore. The Dark Lord._ None of these things could defeat the thought of Harry enjoying his ministrations. _Oh, god. Please. Um. OH! HARRY'S UNCLE!_ Miraculously, the thought of Vernon Dursley (with clothes, thank Merlin) chased away any arousal on Draco's part._

Suddenly Draco realized that he had a massage to finish. He began his work again with zeal. _I wonder how many noises I can get out of him..._ With that thought, a new determination bloomed in Draco. His goal: to make Harry Potter make as many adorable (and downright sexy) noises as he could.

After ten minutes, Draco had reached Harry's waist, and Harry sounded like he was in heat. And, yes, that sounded very bad, but it was also very true. Harry had made more moans, squeals, and sighs in that ten minutes than he had ever before in his life. And Draco was very, very pleased with himself.

As Draco finished up the massage, Harry tried to pull his body back together. It didn't work. Dimly he searched through the mush of his mind. _Ohhh__, that__ feels GOOD... it all feels so good. Draco has the hands of a GOD... mmm... I wonder what else his hands can do... Would it feel this good when he makes love? Mmm... sex with Draco..._

Harry felt far too good to protest at where his thoughts had gone. So when Draco finished the massage, he was surprised by Harry suddenly sitting up and throwing him off. Draco fell back in an ungainly sprawl on the floor with a yelp. "Harry! What the hell d—"

Draco was suddenly cut off by lips on his. Shocked to the bone, he could only watch as Harry's lithe body covered his own and warm hands slid down his chest. "Mmm," the raven-haired god (in Draco's mind) murmured into the kiss, "I bet you taste like heaven, Draco..."

All thought stopped when Harry gently pried Draco's mouth open and slid his tongue in. Draco moaned, low in his throat, and returned the kiss enthusiastically. He wrapped his arms around the warm body of his love and slid his own tongue into Harry's mouth. At the taste, thought started up again. _He tastes like... alcohol. Oh, shit. Harry's drunk. But how? Wait. The butterbeer. It wasn't butterbeer. Crap._

He was shaken from his thoughts when Harry pulled back from the hot kiss, and glazed green eyes opened to lock with stormy grey ones. "I've wanted this for a while, Draco," the smaller boy whispered, eyes bright with arousal. "I've been thinking about you a lot lately... I want you."

Draco felt his heart stop. _He wants me. But he's drunk. Alcohol frees inhibitions and reveals true desires. He's can't be lying. But if I do this, I'll be taking advantage of him. Shit, I never thought of that. Harry..._

With a sigh, he gently pushed Harry away. "No, Harry. Not like this." Harry cast a heartbroken look on him, and Draco cringed. "You're drunk," he explained softly, sitting up and staring down at the Gryffindor in his lap.

Harry pouted at him, hands stubbornly holding onto the Slytherin's robes. "Am not," he said childishly.

"You are. That butterbeer... it was alcoholic. And you had a lot of it."

"But... I want you."

Draco smiled at that, something inside him swelling with happiness at that statement. "And I want you. But I won't take advantage of you. You probably won't remember this."

"Then tell me. When I'm not drunk. Tell me and make me remember. I don't want to forget."

Draco sighed. "That's going to be hard, Harry."

"You can do it. Now kiss me, Draco."

_I can't resist him. Damn._ "All right," he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips. "Just one, though."

"One. Right."

"Right..." Draco slipped his arms around Harry and pulled him closer, before leaning down and pressing his lips to the other's. Harry kissed him back with fervor.

The two were really getting into it when the door banged open and Snape strode in. Harry and Draco jumped apart, Harry peddling backwards off Draco and Draco falling back. They stared up at their professor with identical looks of shock.

Snape only raised an eyebrow at them. "Your detention is over. Clear out." With those cold words, he turned and left.

Draco breathed out and ran a hand through his hair. "He always walks in at the wrong time," he muttered to himself, sitting up. He shook his head and glanced over at Harry.

Who was having a panic attack. Wonderful. 

Draco watched with a raised eyebrow as the Gryffindor ran his hands through his hair and knitted his fingers into the dark curls. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," the now mortified Gryffindor whispered, eyes wide and cleared.

Draco felt his stomach drop. _The alcohol's worn off. Shit. Well, he didn't drink that much... just enough to make him go bonkers for twenty minutes._ "Harry...?" he began tentatively.

Harry's head snapped up, and bottle-green eyes stared at Draco for a long moment. "Draco..." the raven-haired young man started, then he hesitated for a moment. "I'm really sorry," he said earnestly, eyes imploring Draco's. "I'll totally understand if you hate me, but I'm really, really sorry!"

Draco closed his eyes against the sudden rush of pain. _It was a mistake. He doesn't care about me. "Don't worry about it," he said softly._

Harry apparently wasn't listening. "I so didn't mean to take advantage of you, I'd much rather do that while I wasn't drunk, but I'm way too shy and you don't like me like that, or at least I don't think you do, no matter what Ron and Hermione say, and I –"

Wait. Reverse. "Hold it," Draco said, holding up a hand to stop Harry's spiel. "Go back. What did Granger and Weasley say about me?"

Harry turned bright red. "Ah, well..."

"Yes?"

"Theysaidthatyouwereinlovewithme."

"...What?"

Harry cleared his throat. He was wringing his hands nervously. "They said that you were in love with me," he admitted quietly.

Draco was stunned.

"And I didn't really believe them," the Gryffindor rushed on. "I don't know why. Denial or something. But I really like you and I think that's why I... um... sexually attacked you."

Draco was shocked beyond words. "You only kissed me," he said blankly, staring at the younger man. He couldn't think of anything else.

"Well, I also jumped you, and I felt you up, and..."

Draco shook his head. "Harry, if you haven't noticed, the kiss -- and the feeling up -- were not unwanted. I kissed you back."

"...You... did?..."

"I did. Holy shit. You like me? Like... in a romantic way? And Weasley and Granger know I love you?

"..." Apparently, that blew Harry's mind away. "You... love me?" the smaller boy stared at Draco with wide green eyes.

Draco nodded slowly.

Harry bit his bottom lip, a gesture Draco found adorable. "I don't know if I love you or not, yet... but... I do like you. A lot. And, erm..."

_Holy shit._ Draco stood up and slowly made his way over to Harry. Cautiously he kneeled down beside the nervous boy. Harry's hands slid out of his hair, and Draco caught one before it settled on Harry's thighs. "Harry..."

Harry dropped his gaze for a moment, then looked back up into Draco's silver gaze. "Where do we go from here, then?"

Draco sighed, absently rubbing his thumb along Harry's soft skin. In response, Harry's hand twisted around to hold Draco's, their fingers entwining. "Wherever this takes us," he replied quietly, eyes soft.

Harry smiled at him. Draco's gaze softened. "May I kiss you, Harry?"

Harry looked hesitant for a moment, before nodding. Draco brought his free hand up and cradled the side of Harry's face in it. Harry closed his eyes expectantly. Draco brought his head down...

And they kissed.

It was slow and sweet, and Harry felt as if it was his first kiss all over again. The whole world shrunk to Draco's lips, and all other sensations faded to be replaced by the feel of the kiss. It felt so wonderful, that Harry didn't want to stop.

Even though he knew they had to.

Slowly they pulled back from the kiss, eyes opening slightly and their warm breath mingling. Harry felt warm all over; Draco felt like he was falling in love again. Hesitantly they raised their eyes and locked gazes.

No words could convey the feelings in that gaze. It was unspoken, and it was beautiful. Harry felt a smile bloom on his lips, and an answering one rose on Draco's. They smiled at each other, their gazes soft and their hearts full.

Draco nodded his head toward the door, and Harry nodded. Together they stood and began to walk to the door, hands still entwined. They squeezed together and walked out at the same time, and began their short journey down the stairs.

At the foot of the stairs, where they were to go on their separate ways, Draco turned to Harry and stopped him from leaving. "Harry..."

Harry looked up at him, smiling, his hand squeezing the blonde's reassuringly. "Yes?" he whispered,  eyes warm.

Draco smiled back. "Will you go out with me?"

Time seemed to stop for Harry as Draco asked that question. He took a deep breath and exhaled, gazing up at the taller boy. "Yes."

Draco's eyes seemed to light up at his answer. Harry felt compelled to kiss him. He squeezed Draco's hand again and rose up on his toes, tilting his head and kissing Draco. Draco seemed surprised at first, but the blonde quickly came to his senses and kissed Harry back softly. Harry felt his knees start to melt.

Thankfully, they pulled back before his knees could turn entirely to mush. "Can we see each other tomorrow?" Harry whispered, not wanting to break the enchanting mood that had settled over them.

Draco nodded, grey eyes a molten silver. "Yes," he whispered back, and he pressed a kiss to the scar on Harry's forehead before pulling back. He squeezed Harry's hand before letting go and turning away.

Harry watched the black-robed figure disappear down the hall with wide eyes. _He kissed my scar, he thought to himself. He felt tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. __No one's ever kissed my scar... He kissed my scar, he kissed me,__ like I was precious to him... He really does love me..._

Harry furiously rubbed at his eyes to wipe any tears away. _Don't cry. You're supposed to be happy. Draco loves you. He turned around and began to walk back to his dorm, spirits high._

_He loves me. And I think I love him._

~*~

What Draco hadn't realized... was that on the eve of that glorious day, another fell in love, unconsciously, as he saw the universe and its secrets inside cool grey eyes speckled with blue and green. With one gaze, a deeply rooted bond was transformed, from one end of a continuum to the other. Hate turned into love. And Harry Potter began to love Draco Malfoy, beginning with a simple bond of trust.__

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	11. The First 'Meet Me' Note Cliché

**The Anti-Angst Movement******

**Chapter 11 : The First 'Meet Me..." Note Cliché**

~*~

Harry took a long time to waken completely that Sunday morning. After he first woke, he wallowed in his warm bed and gazed drowsily at the canopy, one arm thrown over his forehead and one knee perched up. Harry let himself smile lazily at the canopy, his mind on the previous night and his heart content. After he was finally awake, Harry just lay there, daydreaming of Draco.

Until his stomach growled.

Harry laughed. "Ron?" he called out as he sat up. "You up yet?" A grumble was his answer. Harry grinned. "Fine, be that way. I'm going down to breakfast without you!" he finished in a singsong voice. Daringly he peered out of his bed curtains.

Three pillows hit him in the face, and at Harry's cry of indignation, the day started for the seventh-year Gryffindor boys.

~*~

Draco Malfoy threw open the door to his home with fervor. "I'm home!" he called, setting his hat on a peg on the wall and hanging his outer robes up.

An answering voice rang from the kitchen. "Welcome home, love."

Draco smiled. He walked through the hall and to the kitchen door, from which pleasant smells wafted. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through to greet his beloved, only to have his breath taken away by the sight of his beholden setting out dinner.

Harry Potter glanced up from the delicious-looking spread on the table, his smile coy and nervous. "Do you like it?" the sweet voice asked, but Draco took no mind, as his eyes raked up and down his love's form.

The _apron-clad_ form with _nothing else underneath._

Draco swiftly crossed the room and took Harry into his arms, planting a deep kiss on the other's supine lips. They both moaned, Harry's taking a little whimper to it as Draco's hands slid to his behind and _squeezed._

As they kissed passionately, Draco's wandering hands encountered a line of fabric on Harry's hip. There was another on the other hip, and they converged just above Harry's buttocks and slid down between his cheeks. Draco felt himself chuckle. _Naughty Harry..._

Harry fought against the wonderful hands of his lover and pulled away from those tantalizing lips, his eyelids half-lowered. "Draco, love, the food will get cold," he whispered, even as his own hands beginning to wander.

Draco snorted. "We'll warm it up later. Right now, I have a _different kind of hunger." His eyes lowered a bit, as he felt himself beginning to stir, with an answering stirring against his leg._

Harry actually *moaned.* "Oh, _yes,_ Draco..."

"Good. Now bend over, angel, and let me prepare you..."

"Here? At the _table_?"

"Why, of course. I have a mind to use the honey on you..."

"Oh, _Draco_..."

~*~

When Draco's wizard's alarm clock suddenly went "BRIIIIING!" in his ear and made him fall out of bed, he cursed. Loudly. 

"God-bloody-fucking-DAMN-IT! He was in an APRON! A bloody fucking APRON! I want to go back to sleeeeep!" the blonde whined, sitting up and feeling distinctly put out. "THIS IS INJUSTICE!" Swiftly he turned a malevolent eye onto his alarm clock, which actually *jumped.*

The poor alarm clock, seeing its doom in Draco's rather insane expression, quickly sent a quick apology to whatever deity it had pissed off that week and waited for its end of being thrown into the wall.

*CRASH!*

Draco brushed his hands off, a mollified expression on his regal face. "Stupid alarm clock, ruining a perfectly good dream of Harry," he muttered to himself, climbing back into bed and pulling the blankets back over his head to go back to sleep.

A moment later he realized that it was time for breakfast, and that if he didn't haul his ass out of bed soon, Pansy would let herself in and drag him to the Great Hall in his underwear.

Or less. Draco wouldn't put it past her. She could be rather devious when she wanted.

He sat up, running his fingers through his hair to straighten it, and rose from his bed. With a yawn he grabbed some robes from his closet and walked into the bathroom, intent on a long, hot shower that hopefully Pansy wouldn't interrupt (like she did the last time). Or Blaise, like the time before that. And then (how, he had absolutely NO idea) that Creevey kid the time before!

As Draco stepped under the hot jets of water, he wondered at that. What, did he have a curse on him that made random people appear whenever he was wet and naked or something?

Fortunately, the heavens took pity on the poor sexy Slytherin and had nobody barge in on him while he was scrubbing the netherlands. For which Draco was extremely thankful.

When the shower was over and Draco was groomed, the blonde Slytherin set off towards the Great Hall with a smirk on his lips, causing girls of all houses and years to swoon as he walked past them in the corridor. Draco flicked some hair from his face, his movements graceful and precise.

_I must say, I am one sexy bitch._

~*~

Harry walked through the doors to the Great Hall with a grin on his face. He had decided earlier that morning that he wouldn't tell anyone about his relationship with Draco just yet. After all, he didn't tell Ron and Hermione _everything. Just the things that concerned them._

And his love life didn't concern them, did it? Didn't think so.

(Oh ho, Harry, how little you realize...)

Hermione was already at breakfast when Harry sat down. She smiled at him as he sat down beside her, and he smiled back. "Hi, Hermione!" he chirped, reaching for the pumpkin juice.

She eyed him thoughtfully. "Good morning, Harry. Have a good night's sleep?"

"Wonderful, I'd say."

"Mmm. Have any nice dreams?"

"A few, I think. Very nice."

"Oh?"

"Very, _very_ nice."

"I see... How did detention go last night?"

"Detention? Same as always..." Here Harry blushed a tiny bit, causing Hermione's eyebrows to go up some.

"Really..."

"Mm-hm. Say, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Did you just drop your quill in your pumpkin juice?"

"Oh, did I? Fingers must be slippery." She quickly saved the quill, and the goblet was immediately replaced by a clean one. Brown eyes narrowed slightly; the young prodigy was still touchy over the whole house elf business. "What'd you do in detention?"

"Oh, Snape locked us in a room together for an hour to see if we would fight or not. We didn't."

"Indeed? How'd you do that?"

"Well..." Harry's blush, formerly nearly gone, now deepened and spread to his ears. "We... talked."

"Talked?"

"Yes..."

"Just talked?"

Harry hesitated. He then spied someone across the Hall, and quickly he turned the subject away from his detention. "Look! Ron's awake!"

Hermione was not fooled, but she didn't push it. "So the dummkopf finally rises from the grave, hm?"

Harry fumbled over the strange word, before remembering Hermione had studied German and French over the summer, and that one of her favorite insults for her boyfriend was 'dumb-head.' "I guess so."

Ron greeted them with a wide grin and a twinkle in his eye. "Morning, 'Mione, Harry! Great day, isn't it?"

Two pairs of eyes glanced at the cloudy, rainy ceiling that flashed with lightning every now and then, then back to the redhead. "Lovely," they deadpanned at the same time.

Ron ignored them and sat down across from Harry, next to his sister. "Practice today, Harry," he stated, brandishing a butter knife at his best mate. Harry blinked at him.

"Didn't we practice yesterday, Ron?"

"Yes, but I feel as if we should practice in all types of weather, just in case."

Harry snorted as he picked up a roll. "You're turning into Oliver."

"I am not. And speaking of Oliver... did you hear?" Harry just stared. "I guess not. Oliver's coming here to help with the flying lessons and Quidditch practice."

Harry nearly fell off the bench. "WHAT?"

"Yeah! McGonagall told me after practice yesterday, but I forgot to tell you."

"Ron! That's important information! You don't just 'forget' to tell people these things! Oliver's coming here?!"

"Yes. Next week, I think."

Hermione glanced from her book to Harry. "Why are you so bothered by it, Harry?"

Harry sputtered. "I'm not bothered by it! It's just that..." _It's just that last time Oliver was near me, he kept going on about how he'd love it if I'd ride his broom, and that was just weird... Suddenly Harry remembered the more illicit meaning of 'broom.' _Oh. Shit. OLIVER CAME ONTO ME! Why does everyone want me to ride their brooms? Maybe I want someone to ride my broom! Although, I think it might be nice to ride someone's broom... but just Draco's. Especially Draco's. I bet his is rather nice...__

Harry paused for a moment, as he suddenly realized just where his thoughts were going. _...From now on, every aspect of my sex life is in the hands of Draco Malfoy._ Ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his head saying, _That__ might be a bad idea, mate, he turned back to the conversation at hand. "It's just that you're already an overbearing coach that we don't need him to add to it!" he exclaimed indignantly, buttering his roll and taking a vicious bite out of it.___

Ron grinned at this. "Don't worry about it, mate. We won't let him wake you up at five in the morning this year."

Harry actually breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Merlin." His friends laughed.

Seamus suddenly bounced into the empty seat beside Harry, Dean sitting down beside Seamus and Neville dropping into the seat beside Ginny. "Morning, lovelies! What's on the menu today?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Same thing that's on the menu every Sunday, ya poof."

"Ron..." came the warning.

"Sorry, Harry. Forgot you're a poof too."

"Ron!" came the other warning.

Ron cringed while Harry laughed. "He didn't mean anything by it, Herm. It's just Ron being Ron." Hermione harrumphed. Harry grinned and glanced up almost unconsciously at the sound of flapping wings. "Mail's here!"

Dozens of owls swooped into the room, carrying parcels and letters. An eagle separated from the mass and flew down to where Harry and his friends were sitting. It landed gracefully on the table and held out its leg for Harry.

Harry's heartbeat sped up. _It's from Draco!_ With a wide smile and shaking fingers, he reached forward and untied the letter from the eagle's leg. The bird took off immediately.

Seamus was all glow and sparkle, his accent turning heavy. "Oooh, Harry's got a letta'! An' it was deliva'ed by 'n eeeeee'gal!"

Ron smirked when Harry elbowed Seamus in the side. While Seamus was getting his wind back, Harry opened the letter and read it.

_Harry,_

_Meet me by the lake at one for lunch. The weather is supposed to clear up by then._

_See you,_

_D_

Harry was suddenly aware of several presences peering over his shoulders and head behind him. He started and rolled up his letter, turning to glare at the mass of Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Ginny, and Neville. "Do you MIND?"

The group looked at each other, then shrugged as one. "No."

Harry sulked.

Seamus beamed, sitting straight and wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulders. "So, who's this mysterious _'D'_ character? Is it a she? Or is it a he? Oooh, Harry! You scandalous witch! You have a lover!"

Harry turned bright red. "I do NOT!" he said hotly, turning and glaring at his roommate while the rest of his friends sat back down. "He's just a friend!" _A boyfriend, that is... Wow. I have a boyfriend!_

"Oooh, it's a he, is it? Now who do we know whose name starts with a D?"

All eyes turned to Dean, who stared back blankly. "Don't look at me."

Seamus pouted. "Dean! You've seduced Harry before me! How dare you!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Look, ya poof, I didn't send that letter. That's not my handwriting, in case you haven't noticed, numbskull."

Seamus made a face at him but looked at the letter anyway. "Damn!" he muttered. "He was right." Dean merely sighed. Ginny giggled, then glanced at the letter, a serious look coming over her face. (Uh-oh. Plotting Ginny. RUN!)

Ron and Hermione eyed Harry for a few minutes, but the short Gryffindor just stared at his breakfast with a blush. After a while, the two shrugged it off and went back to eating, figuring Harry would tell them later.

Harry was very careful not to look at Draco for the rest of breakfast.

~*~

Harry was walking back to the Gryffindor Tower behind Ron and Hermione when it happened. As he walked past a closet, a hand shot out and grabbed him. He was then yanked into the shadows and against a firm chest. A familiar voice spoke into his ear as warm lips touched his cheek and long arms slid around his waist.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed, cutting his voice to a whisper. "What are you doing?!"

"I wanted to see you," Draco whispered. Harry felt his face heat up.

"Draco..."

"And I know you wanted to see me."

Harry softened, a smile blooming on his lips as he reached up to brush some hair from Draco's eyes. "I did. But I thought we were going to meet later."

Draco's eyes were soft. "I couldn't help myself. I hate it when you're out of my sight."

"Why? Nobody's going to kidnap me."

"Oh, sweets... it's just dangerous. He's after you. You always wander off alone, and he can find a way to hurt you..."

"We're in Hogwarts, Draco. Voldemort's not going to find his way here."

Draco let out a heartfelt sigh. "You're going to die on me, I hope you know."

Harry laughed softly. "I am not. I have you to protect me. Now come here..." He slid his hand through Draco's hair to the back of his head, before tugging his boyfriend's head down and lifting his chin up so they could kiss.

Instead, Draco completely bypassed Harry's lips and went for his neck. Harry made a sound much like a squeak as he felt Draco's lips on his neck, with something wet accompanying them. With a soft sigh, he tilted his head to the side, to give Draco more leverage.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his neck. With a cry, Harry flinched away, even as Draco pulled back in alarm. They stared at each other for a moment, before Harry realized that...

_He bit me. Draco Malfoy bit me. While we're in a closet together. After he... kissed my neck..._

Harry felt his stomach tighten. Draco stared at him for a moment longer, before the silver eyes softened. "Sorry," the Slytherin whispered, and he ducked back down to lick at the wound.

Harry gasped when he felt Draco's tongue on his skin. "D-Draco..." he whispered, leaning against the wall behind him. Draco paused, before giving the mark one last lick and starting to kiss his way up Harry's neck. Harry didn't move, barely _breathed_; he could feel himself being turned on by Draco's actions, and it didn't help that the blonde was now alternating between licking, kissing, and suckling his neck...

When Draco moved back to the wound and gently bit it again, Harry couldn't take it any longer. He pushed the Slytherin away, only pausing for a moment at Draco's wounded look before grabbing him by the robes and yanking him down for a hot kiss. Draco made a noise against his lips, making something flutter in Harry's stomach.

The two were really getting into the kiss when they heard the door open. Draco pulled back in a languid manner, but as soon as his lips left Harry's the Gryffindor leapt back and would have gotten a concussion had Draco's hand not stopped his head from hitting the wall in time.

Both boys turned to stare at the figure standing in the doorway of the closet. Blaise Zabini smirked at them, hands behind his back. "Well, well, well. Look what we have here!"

Draco seemed unperturbed at Blaise's appearance, but Harry turned frantic. "Zabini, er, well, it's --"

"Yes, it is exactly what I think, and you have my congratulations."

"...wha?"

Draco sniggered. "Very eloquently put, angel. Don't worry. Blaise knows about how long I've been pining for you. He's safe."

Harry just gaped, his expression very reminiscent of that of a fish.

Draco smiled down at his armful before looking up at Blaise. "Is anything wrong?"

Blaise shook his head, dark eyes amused. "No. I just want to point out that your lover boy's friends are searching for him, so you better let him go soon."

Draco pouted. "But I don't want to."

"You must."

"He's mine."

"Privately, yes, but in public..."

"He's _mine._"

Harry's eyebrow twitched, and he broke out of his fish impression to stare at Draco. "Bit possessive, are we?"

Draco flashed a devious grin at him. "You know it, babe."

Harry, very typically of him, blushed.

~*~

Draco finally let Harry go, on the promise that he would get a good taste of his Golden Boy that afternoon. Harry waved good-bye to Blaise and Draco before running off to meet his friends. Draco gazed after him, silver eyes soft.

Blaise glanced down at him with an amused smile. "Never thought you were the type to make out in closets."

Draco scoffed. "I much prefer gold-plated bath tubs, Blaise, you know that."

"I do, after reading your diary..." Blaise grinned slyly.

"Oh, shut up. It was just a piece of paper with my favorite make-out places."

"Maybe I should set something up for you and your lover boy?"

Draco considered this for a moment. "If you do, include some honey. And a frilly apron."

This induced a raised eyebrow. "That's more about your sex life that I ever want to know about."

"You should feel honored."

"I only feel pity for Harry."

Draco merely smirked.

~*~

Seamus accosted Harry the moment he stepped into the common room. Harry was only able to yelp before a hand clamped over his mouth and he was dragged off to the dormitory by the sandy-haired, hazel-eyed ball of energy. Once in said dorms, he was dropped on the floor. Harry could only watch numbly as Seamus cast a locking charm the door behind them.

A few seconds later, his vision was filled with hazel-green eyes. Harry blinked, unnerved. "Did you want something, Seamus?" he asked.

Seamus rolled his eyes. "No, Harry. Why on earth would you think that I would WANT something, after kidnapping you right from under Ronnie's nose? Hmm?"

"Erm..."

"YES, I want something, you git. That note was from Malfoy, wasn't it?" When Harry turned bright red, Seamus' suspicions were confirmed. "That's what I thought. Why are you meeting up with 'im? Did something happen last night?"

Harry made a face at his roommate. "That's private information, Seamus."

Seamus' face lit up. "Ah, so something DID happen last night! What, then? You can tell me!"

"No, thank you, I don't think I will." Harry turned away with his arms crossed.

Seamus pouted. "But Haaaarry~..."

"No."

"Please?"

"Nuh uh."

"Pretty please?"

"No way."

"Pretty pretty please with a naked Ma—Draco on top?"

"N—what??" Harry sputtered, whirling around to stare at Seamus. "Wher—I mean, NO!"

Seamus laughed. "Aww, you're no fun. Well, I guess this means I'll have to bring out my Secret Weapon!" The Irishman's voice dropped to a whisper on the last few words, making Harry fear for his life (and virginity).

"And... what is this 'Secret Weapon?'" Harry asked nervously.

Seamus paused, regarding his pre—I mean, _friend_ thoughtfully. Harry stared back. And Seamus pounced.

The noise Harry made as Seamus' fingers ran over his torso could very well be defined as a squawk. The smaller Gryffindor collapsed into helpless laughter as Seamus tickled him mercilessly, his hands unsuccessfully fighting off Seamus' attacks.

"Nooooo!" Harry cried out, choking back a squeal as Seamus pulled up his shirt and blew into his belly. Seamus cackled and sat fully on Harry's legs to keep him from kicking him.

It was then that Ron unlocked the door and walked in. Seamus and Harry froze, staring up at the redhead with wide eyes. Ron took one look at them and turned to bellow out the door, "_HERMIONE! DEAN! _SEAMUS IS TAKING ADVANTAGE OF HARRY!"

Seamus' answering cry was indignant. "I am NOT! Well, okay, so maybe I am, BUT IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!"

In a flash Hermione, Dean, and about a dozen other Gryffindors appeared in the doorway. "WHAT?!"

Seamus glared at them, while Harry tried to pretend he was somewhere else. Ron crossed his arms, glaring down at the Irishman and his best friend. "Oi."

Dean walked past the tall young man and seized Seamus by the back of his robes. "Come on, Seam. It's time to scare the first years."

Seamus' pout turned into a bright smile. "Oooh! Can I tell them about the time when you forgot to shave?"

Dean smothered a sigh as he dragged the Irishman away. "No, Seamus."

"Awww..."

The group laughed, and everyone except for Ron and Hermione went back to the common room. Harry stood up, pulling down his shirt and looking everywhere but at his friends. Hermione stared at him, a finger to her cheek.

"Harry..."

Harry sighed and forced himself to look at her. "Yeah?"

"Why is there a hickey on your neck?"

Harry's hands flew to his neck. "Eep!"

Ron doubled over laughing while Hermione smiled. "Was it Seamus?" She watched as Harry ran into the bathroom.

Harry inspected the mark, wincing a bit. _Draco... did you HAVE to bite me? Not that I minded..._ "It was NOT Seamus, I can assure you."

Hermione appeared in the doorway. "Then who was it? Draco?"

Harry felt himself go red. "It's just a scratch, it isn't a mark from snogging..."

"Uh huh. How dim do you think I am?"

Harry paused, looking over at Hermione. "I don't think you're dim at all."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Then admit that Draco gave you that."

"...No."

"Why not?"

"Because I want it to be a secret. Pretend this never happened." He knew he was being childish, but he didn't really care.

Hermione laughed. "Fine. Keep your secret of dating Draco. But you better cover that up." Here she took out her wand and walked over to Harry, pointing it at his neck and muttering something. Harry looked back at the mirror in time to see a spark of blue and the mark fade from view.

"Hermione! How would _you_ know _that spell?!"_

The child prodigy blushed a bit, as Ron chose the wrong moment to peek into the room. "Oi, what are you two talking about? Hermione, did you use the spell on him yet?" Hermione blushed further, while Harry laughed. Ron stared at them both. "What?"

~*~

Deep in the middle of... somewhere... of which we will probably never know the location, two beings conversed.

"So, my Lord, what are we going to do tonight?" Lucius Malfoy asked.

"The same thing we do every night, Lucius. Try to take over the world!!" Voldemort cried dramatically.

"Oh, okay! Narf!"

"..."

"..."

"Lucius, did you just say... 'narf?'"

"I... think I did, my Lord."

"..."

"..."

"Well. Back to business."

"Of course, my Lord."

~*~

Harry walked down to the lake with a steady stride. The weather had indeed cleared up, the sun shining and everything. He waved at Hagrid as he passed by the cottage, feeling slightly smug. _There, Draco. Hagrid saw me, so he knows where I'm going. Just for you, love._ Soon he was standing beside the lapping water, looking around for his boyfriend.

Harry wasn't a Seeker for nothing. Within a few seconds he had spotted Draco standing in the trees a few dozen yards off, and after a short while, he was standing in front of the Slytherin.

Draco watched him with stormy grey eyes, a smile playing on his lips. "Hey."

Harry grinned back, feeling slightly foolish but not complaining about it. "Hi."

They gazed at each other a little longer, before Draco reached forward and took Harry's hand. "Come on. The food will get cold." He pulled Harry along behind him, walking into the forest.

Harry let Draco lead him through the woods. "Oh? Is it a hot lunch, then?"

"Yes. Now shush, Harry."

Harry felt an odd thrill at Draco uttering his name like that. So... informally. Like the two syllables belonged on Draco's tongue. He caught up to Draco and walked beside him, peering at the pale lips. "Say it again," he whispered.

Draco smiled slightly before acquiescing. "Harry."

Harry grinned. "Again."

"Harry..."

"I'm sorry, Draco... I just love it when you say my name."

"And I love it when you say mine, angel. We're here."

"Eh?" Harry tore his gaze from Draco's lips to look around. They were in a small clearing, trees surrounding the soft patches of no longer wet grass (courtesy of our lovely Head Boy) and the picnic blanket laden with a basket and two settings. Harry squeezed Draco's hand and, feeling giddy, pressed a kiss to the Slytherin's cheek. He then took the lead, pulling Draco to the blanket and sitting down. With a yank on the other's hand, Draco fell into an ungraceful sprawl beside him.

Gleeful verdant eyes met annoyed silver ones. Draco pouted at the smaller boy. "You made me fall. I'm a mess now."

Harry laughed, full and loud. He let go of Draco's hands and turned on his stomach, crawling over the other and laying on top of him. "You'll never be a mess, Draco. You're too..."

"Hot? Sexy? Drool-worthy? Babelicious?"

Harry sniggered at the last word. "What about Harrilicious?"

Draco raised an eyebrow, fingers playing against the small of Harry's back. "Why would I want to be called that atrocious word?"

"Because you're mine. Only I can be attracted to you."

Draco smirked at him. "Of course I'm yours, love. And you are most definitely mine. But it would be a crime if nobody else noticed my beauty."

Harry smiled. "You're so vain, Draco Malfoy."

"Of course. Everyone should worship me. I need a harem, now." This made Harry pout at him.

"What about me?"

Draco smiled slyly at his small love. "You'll be the number one of my lovers, and you'll be made empress."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm lacking a few things to become a female ruler, Drac."

"So? Rulers can cross-dress."

"Name one."

"The Pharaoh Hatshepsut."

"That was a woman dressing as a man, Draco."

"Hey, it works, okay? Now let's eat."

Harry grinned and quickly stole a kiss before he was pushed off. Draco sat up beside him, crawled to the basket, and began to take out plates and bowls. Harry sat up and watched him. _Did I ever think I'd be sharing a picnic lunch with Draco Malfoy? At his invitation? With him calling me 'angel' and 'love' and... 'Harry'? Never in a million years would I have thought I'd be sitting here... _Here Harry let out a tiny, forbidden giggle. _I called him 'Drac.' I hope he doesn't hex me._

Draco turned around at the giggle. When his eyes locked with Harry's bright green ones, he smiled. "What are you looking at?"

Harry grinned. "Oh... just you."

Draco smirked. "Just me, eh?"

"Yep. Just plain, old, devilishly handsome Draco Malfoy..."

"I am neither plain nor old. I am, however, devilishly handsome. One out of three, Potter. Not bad, for you."

Harry laughed. "Oh, you."

"Yes, me. Come here." Harry obediently crawled to the taller boy, his face expectant. Draco grinned at him. "On behalf of the great Draco Malfoy, oh adorable one, you will be dining on supreme eatings today."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Delicious soup of the finest quality, hot sandwiches of unimaginable delight, and an iced drink of a wonderful flavor, with a sweet chocolate goodie for dessert."

Harry smiled, standing up on his knees and leaning over to kiss Draco. "I wouldn't care if it was the worst meal in the world, Draco, if I could share it with you." A very dim icing of pink found its way to Draco's cheeks, making Harry's mouth open slightly. He stared in wonder. "You're blushing."

Draco looked away. "I am not."

Harry felt his heart melt. "You are... and it is _so cute." Draco looked back at him, in an unsure way that made Harry want to melt. He leaned forward again and kissed the older boy soundly, a soft sigh escaping his lips._

Draco relaxed against him, kissing him back in a way that made Harry's heart flutter at the gentleness of it. They stayed that way for a few moments.

They pulled back at the same moment, lips brushing against each other's before they completely broke the kiss. Harry opened his eyes and stared at Draco, who looked as if he had seen heaven. _Maybe he has,_ Harry thought.

Then Draco opened his eyes, and Harry was caught up in their stormy depths. Draco gazed at him for a long moment, before smiling. Harry's breath caught in his throat. _He's so beautiful._

"Let's eat now, Harry," the other boy whispered, his silver eyes oh-so-soft. Harry nodded and sat back on his legs, still staring at Draco. The older boy reached for his hand and caught it, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Harry had to smile. 

_This is love._

~*~

Sometime later, after lunch was eaten, dishes were put away, and kisses were shared, Harry and Draco were relaxing together. Draco was sitting against a tree, the blanket folded on the basket beside him, and Harry was curled up on his side to face Draco, his head in the other boy's lap. Draco was combing his fingers gently through Harry's unruly curls, while Harry played with his other hand, absently running his own fingers over the smooth, pale skin.

"It's going to be hard, you know," Harry remarked softly, eyes sliding up to rest on Draco's face.

Draco gazed back at him with stormy eyes. "What is?"

"Seeing you in the halls and class... and not being able to touch you." Draco's eyes softened.

"Harry... we could become an official couple."

Harry bit his bottom lip. "But... what about your father?"

Draco snorted. "Him? Don't worry about him. He can't do a thing about it."

"What do you mean?"

"He already knows of my feelings for you, as does my mother. He may not approve, but my mother does, and because of her, he can't stop me from loving you. So you and I could become official, and he couldn't do anything but support me. Crabbe and Goyle already know, as does Zabini, so that takes care of Slytherin... Apparently, your friends already approve, so that takes care of Gryffindor. With the two main threats out of the way, the rest of the school won't care. The Slytherins would never let anyone take me down, nor you, if you're my boyfriend, and we both know how protective your Gryffindor friends are of you. The teachers couldn't do anything about it but say we can't make out in class. Which is entirely unfair of them. They're going to miss out on quite a show." Draco sniffed in disdain. Harry blushed slightly.

"Putting aside the snogging... could we really? You know... go public? And still be together?" Harry really didn't mean to sound hopeful. Really. But it just came out that way.

Draco looked at him again, a smile forming on his lips. "Yes."

There was a short pause, before Draco suddenly found his lap full of Harry. Warm arms wrapped around him and hugged him tightly, as soft lips pressed against his own in an eager kiss. Draco did not complain.

When they finally pulled away to breathe, Harry immediately began to rain kisses on Draco's face. "I'm –" kiss, "really –" kiss, "happy that –" kiss, "we get to –" kiss, "be official!" Kiss. 

Draco laughed. "Oh, Harry..." To his disappointment the kisses stopped, only for Harry to start nibbling on his neck. Draco sighed. "I'll warn you, angel, if you want this to dissolve into a snog session, just keep doing that..." He felt the Gryffindor smile against his neck.

"What makes you think I don't?" the mischievous voice whispered.

Things definitely dissolved into a snog session after _that._

~*~

Seamus Finnigan often fancied he'd make a fine Auror. Or at least a detective, if he had to live in the Muggle world. He was fantastic at solving mysteries and tracking people down. He was also excellent with figuring things out. These skills were also a reason he was Head of Hogwarts Gambling Sect (but not many people knew that, if you know what I mean *wink*).

At the moment, young Finnigan was putting these skills to use in finding one Harry Potter. A footprint here, a twig broken there... yes, every part of the surrounding area was subject to inspection. Seamus even found a curly black hair! Oh, yes, he was on a _trail._

Seamus was about to venture deeper into the forest when a hand descended on his shoulder. He would have loved to shout out in surprise, but alas, another hand clamped over his mouth.

"Mmmmpphhhh!!!!" the irate Gryffindor cried in a muffled manner.

A silky chuckle sounded in his ear. "I never knew you felt that way, Finnigan..." 

Seamus nearly squealed. "Mllayyzz Ffphaambleee???"

"I believe that might be my name when yelled in a muffled manner... If you promise not to scream, I'll let you go, little Gryffindor," the Slytherin whispered, dark eyes on the boy in front of him. Seamus nodded vigorously. Blaise smirked and let go.

Seamus stumbled forward for a bit, before whirling around and staring at his former captor. Within moments, he had begun to scream at Blaise. "What the bloomph!"

He was interrupted by a hand on his mouth again, and Blaise mock-glared at him. "No screaming, Finnigan." He took his hand away, and Seamus pouted at him. Blaise smirked.

"Fine," the Gryffindor whispered, glaring at the Slytherin. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?!"

The tall boy merely raised an eyebrow. "Keeping you from interrupting your friend," he answered calmly, as if speaking of the weather.

Seamus felt riled, much like a cat kept from his tuna. "Why? Malfoy could be mutilating him by now!"

"Do you have so little faith in Malfoy?"

"YES!"

Blaise quickly put a finger to Seamus' lips. "Shh. No yelling. You'll disturb them." Seamus glared at him and bit the finger. Blaise's eyes narrowed, but he didn't move his hand. "Don't make me hurt you." 

Seamus rolled his eyes, but he stayed silent.

Blaise took his hand away. "If you want to be assured of their safety, follow me, then." He turned and began to walk away. Seamus had no choice but to follow him.

_Bloody git,_ the Irishman thought to himself, glaring at Blaise's back, _thinks he's all that. And he is NOT that cute, no matter what Parvati and Lavender say. He paused, eyes moving down Blaise's form before going back to his head. __Okay, so he doesn't have a bad body, and he's nice on the eyes. Okay, he's one of the hottest Slytherins there is. But... oh, he pisses me off! Worse than Malfoy does! Grr... Malfoy! Argh, Harry, why'd you have to go and get a crush on that blasted Slytherin?_

Seamus was brought out of his mental tirade by an arm bumping into his chest. (Actually, it was the other way around, but Seamus hated to be at fault when there was a Slytherin in the vicinity.) Unfazed by the sudden stop, he peered over Blaise's shoulder in curiosity.

They were on the edge of a clearing, and on the other side of the clearing was the boy he had been searching for. Said boy had his arms wrapped around another boy, who in turn was venturing his hands in places that Seamus was _sure_ Harry didn't know existed. Seamus' jaw dropped open at the sight.

Harry and Draco were kissing. Deeply. And rather passionately. Harry had his hands under the Slytherin's shirt, and Draco in turn was running his hands over the Gryffindor's back and... other... regions. Seamus could see marks on both of their necks. _Never thought Harry'd be a biter, he thought distractedly. He didn't object when Blaise took hold of his wrist and led him away from the sight._

They were almost out of the forest when Seamus regained his senses. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy engaged in a snog session," he said blankly, eyes moving up to lock on the dark Slytherin in front of him. "How'd you know about all this?"

Blaise stopped walking and let go of Seamus' wrist. "Draco appointed me as their guard. I was _supposed_ to keep all wandering fools away from them, but it seems I failed in this..."

There was a pointed silence.

Until Seamus reacted. "I am _not_ a wandering fool, ya bloomin' poof! I was a hunting fool! Harry could have been in a lot of danger!"

Blaise turned to face the Gryffindor. "I fail to see how that could be, as Draco could never harm a hair on Potter's head even if he tried. He loves the boy, he would never hurt him, and he would _never_ let anyone else hurt him. Harry is probably safer with Draco than he is nestled in your Gryffindor Tower."

Seamus stared at the tall boy. Suddenly he needed to know if... "Has Malfoy said it yet?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Said what?"

"That... he loves Harry?"

"I believe so. And Potter's made a similar answer."

"Shit..." _Well, guess I'm done trying to court Harry. Maybe Malfoy will be good for him._ Seamus paused, rethinking that statement. _What the bloody hell am I thinking?! Harry's doomed! _

"Oh, well," he sighed aloud, putting a dramatic hand to his forehead. "I s'pose I'll have to let this be, otherwise Ronniekins might corner me in the hall and give me a good... punch. Most people would rather snog me, but he's stuck up on poor 'Mione, wouldn'tcha say?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Not everyone wants to snog you, Finnigan."

Seamus slowly grinned. "Does that include you? Would you rather kiss me or hit me, Zabini, if you had me alone in your clutches? Hmm?"

Blaise eyed him for a long moment. "Probably kiss you."

He hadn't expected _that._ Seamus' jaw dropped open again, and he hurried to close his mouth. "Wha...??"

Blaise threw his head back and laughed. "Finnigan, you _are a riot. I'd snog you, then kick your arse into next week. Now come on, you need to leave before Draco comes out and decides to kill you."_

Seamus shook his head. _Not when I can get a decent snog out of you!_ "Hold it, you!" He reached out and grabbed the Slytherin's arm. With a sharp tug, they both tumbled to the ground, Blaise on top. Seamus quickly rolled them over to where he was on top. He stared down at the surprised Slytherin in silence. "Would you really kiss me if you had the chance?"

Blaise stared at him. "Yes, Finnigan, I would. Can your blasted mind not comprehend that?"

"Oh, it can. And here's your chance."

"What?"

"Kiss me."

~*~

Blaise couldn't believe his ears. Seamus wanted to kiss him...? "Finnigan, you loony, are you out of your gourd?"

"Yes! Now if I can get a good snog out of Mr. Ice Man, why wouldn't I?"

Blaise felt a chill enter his mind. "So that's what this is all about."

"Well, that, and you're _really_ hot."

Blaise rolled his eyes. Seamus wou7ld be Seamus, no matter what. "Git. You always think with your crotch, don't you?"

"Of course. Can we snog now?"

The dark-haired Slytherin closed his eyes. _This is probably as close to being with him as I'm going to get._ "Fine." He slid a hand behind Seamus' head and gently tugged the sandy-crowned head down. Warm lips met cold ones, and Blaise sighed into the kiss. _Might as well make it good._ He didn't mean to, but somehow his feelings got into the kiss, making it sweet and soft, yet hard and almost passionate at the same time. He kissed the unmoving Gryffindor for as long as he could, before he heard something rustle close by. _Malfoy, you always ruin everything!_

With a gentle push, he disengaged the kiss, his eyes not meeting Seamus'. He pushed the Gryffindor off and stood, brushing grass and dirt from his robes. "You better get moving, Finnigan, before Draco finds you and fries you." He walked off, ignoring his thumping heart. _Maybe I can steal a dance at the ball. I can say it was a dare. Hmmm... The Slytherin plotted as he walked away, aware that his crush was about to be scared out of his mind._

"AAAAUUUGGHH!"

He didn't stop walking at the scream. _Serves him right for hunting around where he shouldn't be,_ Blaise smirked to himself. He did pause in his footsteps as two blurs ran past him, both black with blonde, only the first was more golden and the other more silvery. He felt a new presence at his elbow a few seconds later. He knew who it was without turning around.

"Well, Potter, shall we go save your friend, or let Draco turn him into a turnip?"

There was a contemplating silence before Harry answered. "Turnip. He shouldn't be sneaking around anyway."

Blaise chuckled in response. "We'll make a Slytherin out of you yet, Potter."

"I can't wait. Let's go watch Draco chase Seamus around the lake." 

"That we shall."

The two walked off after their wayward crushes, following the screams of terror and the cries of anger. Harry would be pleased when he got to 'comfort' Draco after the chase, and Blaise would be happy to escort his crazy love to the Infirmary. Draco would be delighted to be 'comforted' by Harry, and Seamus... well, he'd be happy to get away from Draco, period.

Oh, yes, life was good.

~*~

_To Be Continued..._

And now, I would like to show to you... **The Sirius Lee Black Joke**! Now THIS joke is entirely mine. Bwahaha.

~*~

_"You're black."_

_"I am Black."_

_"Are you serious?"_

_"I am Sirius."_

_"Seriously?"_

_"Yes, Sirius Lee."_

_"Are you seriously black??"_

_"Yes, I am Sirius Lee Black."_

_"...Seriously?"_

_"YES, DAMNIT! I AM SIRIUS LEE BLACK! WHAT DO YOU NOT GET ABOUT THIS?!"_

_"Wow... you really are serious."_

_"I hate you."_

_"That's a little harsh. Seriously."_

_"GAH!"_


	12. The Constant Interruptions Cliché

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 12 : The Constant Interruptions Cliché**

~*~

"Don't you dare say it, Harry. Grr."

Harry smiled to himself as he heard the warning in Seamus' voice, but as he'd heard actual threats of castration and disembowelment, among other things, in the fifteen minutes prior to Seamus' growl, he paid it no mind.

They were in the common room, Harry applying gauze and healing creams to the many wounds on Seamus' body, which were given to him by a certain silver dragon who was probably cackling himself to insanity down in the dungeons at that very moment...

Harry had received permission from Madam Pomfrey to heal Seamus' wounds himself, and upon getting the supplies, he had dragged the protesting and profanity-abusing Seamus through the school and back to the common room. Now, with Seamus half-in bandages and half-cursing creatively enough to make a sailor blush, they were attracting quite a bit of attention.

Harry finished applying the cream to Seamus' cheek, turned, and shooed away the stragglers. Seamus might have helped scare off the firsties by growling out a threat of using an Unforgivable, but we like to think it was Harry's smiling reassurances that made the little Gryffindors skitter off to play some Exploding Snap (far away from Gryffindor Tower, too).

Dean had already laughed all that he could over Seamus' unfortunate incident, and then some, along with Ron and Ginny. Neville had admonished the Irishman, and Hermione had said nothing at all, though her eyes were amused.

And above all, Seamus was not a happy Seamus.

"Can you believe that git? Grrr, he should be put on a monument and stamped with the words in red ink and giant letters, 'YE ROYAL ARSE OF SLYTHERIN HOUSE. PLEASE KICK WITH GLEE.' Then – ow! Harry! – he should be tossed into a pit of rabid – shit, Harry! That shoulder is very important to me, you know! – Snapes and McGonagalls. Then left alone in a room with a hyper Hermione. That is scary, I'll tell you. 'Mione, love, stop glaring at me. Then we should drag his bloody and whimpering pelt to watch that American kid's show that made Dean have spasms in his right eye – ow, that fucking HURTS, Harry! – and THEN we can tie his mutilated body to a manticore's back and send it careening off a – FUCKING HELL, HARRY! NOT SO TIGHT!"

Harry smiled sweetly from where he had been wrapping a bandage around Seamus' arm. "Sorry, Seamus," he cooed, voice dripping sugar, "what were you saying?" His innocent expression sent Ron into hysterics, and even Hermione had to hide a smile.

Seamus only muttered a dire threat.

Harry grinned. "That's what I thought." He lightened up on his bandaging.

"Oi, 'Arry?"

"Yea?"

"You ever wonder what it'd be like if they had a Harry Potter action figure?"

Artist's hands froze in their ministrations. "Action... figure?..."

Seamus nodded vigorously. "Aye! A little Harry battling a troll... a Harry making a potion... a Harry on a broomstick... a Harry flying around capturing little keys... a Harry with Hedwig... a little Harry with Godric Gryffindor's sword... a Harry cursing Malfoy to oblivion..."

Harry's eye had begun to twitch every time he heard 'Harry' during this... monologue... that had sprouted from the Irishman's much-used lips. At the last figurine optioned, Harry felt his temper grow very, very short. "Seamus," he growled, picking up one of Hermione's thick (and well-used) texts, "if I hear one more word from your mouth..."

Showing wisdom that usually wasn't found in the average Gryffindor, Seamus shut up.

Then Dennis Creevey (who had been sitting across the room listening to the entire conversation) perked up and waved at Harry. "Hey, Harry! They do have figurines of you! I have a Seeker!Harry right now! See?" The fourth-year held up a tiny action figure of Harry on a broom, which rose from his hand and flew around his head. Harry's jaw dropped open, and he could do nothing...

"REALLY?!"

...until Seamus opened his mouth.

*WHACK!*

"OW! BLOODY FUCKING HELL, HARRY!"

Harry set the book down and smiled to himself, feeling rather good for knowing that in hundreds of homes around the world, children were playing with little toys that looked exactly like him...

Harry shuddered. At least it was only in wizarding homes... He didn't know what he would do if the Muggle world knew about him.

~*~

At lunch on Wednesday, Harry received a somewhat pleasant but also disturbing surprise. When he turned to ask Ron to pass the pumpkin juice, he found himself face-to-face with Oliver Wood.

"GAH!"

Harry promptly fell off the bench, though his shins stayed on the wooden structure. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs alike turned around to stare at the sight of Harry Potter's scrubby sneakers sticking up in the air. At the sound of giggles, Ravenclaw turned around, and finally Slytherin allowed itself to see what the commotion was.

Harry was too busy staring at Oliver to notice the giggles and catcalls. "Oliver? When did you get here?"

Oliver smiled down at the slim Seeker, absently admiring the toned muscles of Harry's long legs. "Oh, just yesterday. Thought I'd drop in and say hi. Need a hand, Harry?"

Harry finally heard the laughter of the student body. He felt his face heat up. "Please."

Oliver reached down and pulled Harry back up into his seat, his hand lingering on the other's. Harry took no notice, his eyes on his plate. The laughter slowly faded away as the students found other things to talk about, such as Dumbledore's new hat (it was purple, with pretty white lace and glittery purple bows and a sparkling blue moon here and there and -- why are you all looking at me as if I'm insane?). Harry looked up at Oliver and wrinkled his nose at how much taller than he the man was. _Why couldn't I've been at least five-nine? I hate being short..._

"You're here to help coach Quidditch, huh?"

Oliver beamed at the mention of his favorite subject. "Yes! My team's got a new Keeper to train, and I won't be needed for the rest of the season, so I came down here. What about you? Still Seeker? Who's on the team this year?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I'm still Seeker. Ron Weasley's Keeper and captain, and he's pretty good at it. Ginny Weasley's a Chaser, and..." He went on to tell Oliver about the other players on the team and pointed them out to the ex-captain.

Oliver was nodding when he finished. "The Weasleys have always been fantastic Quidditch players," he announced, making Ron and Ginny both turn bright red. "First Charlie, then the twins... now the younger ones. Too bad Percy liked studying more than having fun. Now, I want to see all of you in action at practice. When's your next one?"

"Tonight," Ron intoned, at the same time that Harry said "Sunday." The boys stopped and stared at each other.

Harry immediately pouted. "Ron! We already have a load of homework, can't we take the week off?"

Ron look offended. "No, Harry! We must practice! If we don't have practice at least three or four times a week, we'll never have our game by the time we have to play Slytherin!"

The two boys glared at each other for a full minute, before Harry spoke. "Make it Thursday and Saturday, and we have a deal."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Across from them, Hermione rolled her eyes and Ginny hid a smile. Oliver smiled amusedly at the two seventh-years. "Right. Hey, Harry, can I talk to you after lunch?"

Harry blinked at him over his sandwich. "Murph?"

"Unless you have a class..." At Harry's nod, Oliver sighed. "Alright. Can you meet me after dinner on Friday in my rooms? They're on the fourth floor, third door past the painting of Rowena Ravenclaw. Got that? Good."

~*~

"I don't think Oliver's going to try and jump me, Draco."

Harry was lounging on Draco's bed on his stomach, his eyes following his boyfriend as the Slytherin paced back and forth. It was Friday afternoon, and after Potions had let out, Draco had hijacked his beau from under Ron's and Hermione's respectively non-protesting and amused noses and run off to his rooms. Draco had just tossed Harry in and was about to follow when he noticed Hermione and Ron coming up the stairs leading to the landing on which his rooms were located. Bemused, he had watched them as they sauntered past and went into another room opposite his. Then Draco had remembered: Hermione had her own room as well.

Upon entering his own room, Draco had been pounced on by an enthusiastic Harry, and the sexy young Slytherin found himself pressed against the door with a sexy young Gryffindor pressed against him. The following kiss kept them both rather... busy.

Now, Draco turned to stare at Harry from his side of the room. "Of course he is. I can't leave you alone with anybody." The irate blonde threw his hands into the air. "Everyone knows you're one of the hottest Gryffindors there is! If it weren't for me, you'd still be Number One Most Eligible Bachelor! But you're mine... mwahahaha... All mine! But nobody knows that yet. So you're still going to have people trying to feel you up, kiss you, get you alone so they can snog you all they want... I bet Wood's no different. And that is why I'm going with you!"

Harry stared. "You're going with me."

Draco nodded confidently. "Yes."

"To keep Oliver from possibly seducing me."

Another nod. "Of course."

"And if he does, you're going to curse him like there's no tomorrow, come high waters or hell."

A smirk. "You bet, angel."

A pause. "Draco, he's not going to like that. You're a Slytherin. You're Slytherin's _Seeker._ He probably wants to talk to me about Quidditch."

Draco shook his head. "No, he's going to jump you, I just know it. I have a sense for these things."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Alright, you can come, but if he gets mad, it's not my fault."

"Agreed. It's his fault."

"Oh, Draco..." Harry sighed exasperatedly. He shook his head, raised a hand, and set his chin on it, staring at Draco. "Besides, even if he did jump me, I'd push him away. I'm with _you, not him."_

This earned him a smile. "I love you, too, Harry. But I don't trust him."

Harry smiled. Then he thought of something else. "Oh, Draco... I want your help with something."

The blonde glanced at his little beau. "Hmm?" He crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to Harry, his hand sliding over the other's back. Harry squirmed a bit, wishing he wasn't ticklish. "What is it?"

"I want you to help me set Seamus and Blaise up."

A blonde eyebrow rose. "Why?"

"Because Blaise likes Seamus, and Seamus needs a boyfriend. A _solid_ boyfriend."

"That is true... I don't know. Why didn't you ask Granger?"

"'Cause you're friends with Blaise. Please?" He gave Draco the puppy eyes.

Draco, expectedly, shrank back. "You prat, stop looking at me like that! Of course I'll do it, just stop with the damn eyes." Harry stopped, a smile playing on his lips. Draco rolled his eyes. "Prat."

Harry rolled over onto his back, his black hair distinct against the green of the comforter. The dark colors made his pale golden skin and brilliant green eyes stand out. Draco thought he looked almost elfin. _Harry really is a lovely creature, he thought to himself, eyes on the Gryffindor's. He pulled himself fully onto the bed and lay down on his side next to the shorter boy. He let his fingers run over Harry's firm abdomen, taking great delight in the sharp intake of breath._

He leaned over and blew into Harry's ear. "What do you think about sex, Harry?" he asked softly, one arm curling possessively around the Gryffindor's waist.

Harry reached down to hold Draco's hand. The slim boy blinked up at Draco, a dim flush on his cheeks. "Sex?" he echoed, green eyes widening. "I dunno..."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the typical Gryffindor look. "Have you ever done it before?" He held back any possessive urges within him at the thought of someone else touching his Harry.

Harry shook his head, his other hand reaching up to touch Draco's face. "Never... I've just kissed."

When the passing fingers ran over his mouth, Draco caught one of them between his lips. He let go after a moment, his eyelids lowering slightly. "Who?"

A puzzled look crossed Harry's face. "What?"

"Who have you kissed?"

"Oh... um. You, Seamus a few times, Hermione, Ginny... that's it, really. Hermione was more of a sister's kiss, she even said that herself when Ron protested, so was Ginny, and Seamus... well. We all know Seamus."

Draco did roll his eyes this time. "Yes, Finnigan will be Finnigan. Is that all? I would think with all your fans..."

Harry glared. "I don't LIKE having 'fans,' Malfoy. I'm talking about kisses that mean something to me. The only time a 'fan' kissed me was when some girl grabbed me and laid it on me. Ew. It was sloppy and gross, too."

Draco nodded, before coming to a screeching halt. "Wait. Kisses that mean something to you? So that kiss with Finnigan...?"

Harry suddenly seemed to find the ceiling _very interesting. "They were nice kisses... and he's my friend..."_

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Well, I'll make sure to make you forget about that half-blood's kisses... you're _mine, Potter."_

Harry felt a thrill in his chest. He looked back at the taller Slytherin. "You're being possessive again..."

Draco smirked. "Damn right." He then leaned over his love, lowering his lips to the full, pinkish ones below him. Harry sighed beneath him, and two arms came up to wrap around his neck. They kissed slowly, Harry's hands entangling in Draco's hair and Draco's fingers running up and down Harry's side. When they pulled away for air, Harry blinked dazedly up at Draco.

"Don't insult Seamus, all right? He's a good person."

Draco snorted, obviously not believing him. "Whatever you say, angel. I won't insult him... unless he's within hearing distance."

"Draco!"

Draco laughed and swooped in for another kiss. Oh, how he loved Harry... "So, what _do_ you think of sex, love? Do you think you have any preferences? I promise not to force anything on you."

Harry shrugged, though a small... _something formed in the pit of his stomach. "Besides the obvious male one?" This made his boyfriend snort. "Not really. I know that guys can be... taken... and really,  I'd like to try both. Taking and being taken. I don't really know which one I'll like better." Pause. "You don't mind, do you...?"_

Draco smiled. "No, love, I don't. I personally wouldn't mind either way, although I might prefer top. I'll warn you now. I _am a very controlling person." This was said with a sly smirk._

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't I know it," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing..."

"Right... So. Do we want to continue this conversation, or do we want to snog?"

Harry grinned. "Snog, definitely."

Draco leaned over Harry again, slow and deliberate, but Harry wasn't in the mood for slow. He reached up and grabbed Draco's vest, yanking him down and kissing him, his mouth opening slightly against Draco's lips. Draco sighed, opening his own mouth and slipping his tongue into Harry's. He climbed over Harry carefully and straddled the younger boy's hips. Harry arched up against him, a small sound escaping his throat. Draco moaned in return, and the kiss turned hard and passionate.

Draco let his hand ghost down Harry's skin, making the boy beneath him shiver. He slid his hand under Harry's back and up his shirt, caressing the skin there, as he broke the kiss for air and began kissing Harry's neck. He kissed and licked his way up to Harry's ear. Harry's hands were sliding through his hair and over his shoulders, and his head was turned to the side to give Draco leverage. Draco smiled and ran his tongue under Harry's ear, at the same time that his hand came to rest under Harry's behind and squeezed.

Harry gasped and bucked against the taller boy. "Draco...!" he cried out. Draco paused, then licked the spot again, looking on amusedly as Harry collapsed into a boneless pile at the sensation.

_Hmm... pleasure spot. I'll have to remember that._

He felt a hand running over his chest. With one final lick to the pleasure spot, he lifted his head and kissed Harry again, which the Gryffindor happily returned. He squeezed the firm mound his fingers rested on again. Harry pushed against him again.

Suddenly, the door banged open against the wall. Draco and Harry jerked back at the same time, heads whipping around to stare at the doorway. Jaws dropped as twin expressions of horror dawned on their faces.

Pansy Parkinson stood in the doorway, an equally surprised expression on her face. Full lips opened in an 'oh' of shock, and one hand rose to her mouth. Sky-blue eyes widened.

Harry flushed bright red and cursed, grabbing a pillow to hide behind. Draco sat up on Harry's legs, staring at Pansy. He realized he was gaping and quickly rectified that. He opened his mouth to speak, couldn't find anything to say, and tried again. "Pansy, if you're going to stay there and stare all day, could you at least shut the door?"

Pansy shook herself out of her stupor and shut the door. She leaned against it, staring at the two on the bed. "Is that really Potter?"

Harry made a mortified sound, and Draco rolled his eyes. "Does that answer your question?"

Pansy raised a blonde eyebrow. "I suppose so... I guess this answers the question of your sexuality."

Draco smirked. "You've known I was gay for a long time."

Pansy pouted. "Yes, but I was hoping it wasn't true."

"Pansy, love, it was over between us in fifth year. You know that."

"I do, Draco, I do. Now tell Potter to stop hiding like a sissy. I won't eat him."

Harry sheepishly put the pillow away before Draco could answer. He waved awkwardly at Pansy, a shy grin on his face. Pansy stared at him in speculation.

"Well, he is cute, I'll give you that." This made Harry squeak in surprise, something that he would rather not do in front of Pansy of all people.

Draco sniffed. "Of course he's cute. He's bloody adorable. Doesn't he sound like a mouse?"

"Quite, Draco. Why him?"

Draco flashed a brief but brilliant smile at her. "Would you believe me if I told you I've been in love with him for months?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Somehow, yes. Does your father know?"

"Yes, and my mother approves."

"Ah. Good. Well, if Potter's going to be your boyfriend, I suppose I'll have to accept him, won't I?"

"Of course, Pansy. Now, do we have to Obliviate you, or are you going to keep this a secret?"

Pansy smiled at him. "Are you sure you don't want it known? I have a feeling there won't be many people against it, besides the Gryffindors and quite a few Ravenclaws. The Slytherins have been betting on it for weeks."

Draco paused at that, distantly remembering something about a giant betting pool about Harry's significant other... He was distracted from the memory, however, by Harry squirming under him.

"Ron and Hermione know that he likes me, er... Pansy," the dark-haired boy stated quietly. "They also know that I'm dating him. They're fine with it..." 

Pansy nodded. "All right, then." She looked up at Draco with a wide-eyed look. "May I go tell the whole school about you _now, Drakie-wakey?" she asked sweetly, hands clasping in front of her._

Draco flinched at the name. He glared at her. "Don't. Call. Me. That," he hissed through gritted teeth. Beneath him, Harry looked like he had had an epiphany.

Pansy laughed, more at the look on Harry's face than at Draco's reaction. "It's a pet name from when we were children," she explained to Harry. With a smirk, she looked back at Draco. "I only call you that when I want to annoy you, dear. I'll be running along now." She waved at Harry and left the room, her lips curled into a smirk.

Harry stared after her before looking up at Draco. "She's not that bad... I think," he finished uncertainly.

The Slytherin looked down at him, raising an eyebrow before chuckling. "She's all right. We've been friends since we were babies. And she was kidding about hoping I wasn't gay. The whole dating thing was really something pushed on us by our parents."

Harry smiled up at him. "Good. Come here."

Draco smirked before leaning down over Harry. "Like this?" he whispered, eyes locked with the green orbs below him. Harry nodded, before flipping them over and rolling on top of Draco.

The Slytherin yelped indignantly at finding himself under the lithe Gryffindor, but he was very soon distracted by the squirming movements of Harry's hips as he tried to situate himself better. Draco's eyes widened at the friction.

"Harry," he whispered, hands reaching out to still those slim hips. "Don't do that."

Harry glanced at him in confusion. "Don't do what?" A sly look suddenly streaked across the dark-haired boy's face, making him look decidedly Slytherinesque at that point. "This?" He pushed his hips against Draco's teasingly, making the older boy moan.

"Yes," Draco gasped out, even as he felt himself start to react. He closed his eyes, fighting the arousal and failing.

Apparently, Harry felt it, too, because the smaller boy blushed. "Do you like that?" he asked softly as he repeated the motion, the sly look fading into an unsure one.

Draco opened his eyes to stare up at the Gryffindor. "Harry, if you don't stop that, I won't be able to stop myself from..." he trailed off quietly, eyes focused on Harry's.

Harry blinked. "From what?"

Draco sighed. "Harry... What do you think? I'm this close to throwing you on the bed and ravaging you."

Comprehension dawned, and Harry's eyes widened. "Oh..." he said faintly. The motions came to a stop.

Draco felt both relieved and disappointed.

Harry seemed to be indecisive about something, until after a moment a resolved look crossed his face. The slim boy placed his hands on Draco's chest and leaned over him, his hair falling past his face. "How much time do we have until dinner?" he asked quietly, planting a chaste kiss on Draco's cheek.

Draco sighed, relaxing under the Gryffindor. He glanced across the room at the clock on the wall. "We have two hours, angel."

The dark-haired boy leaned down further, lips brushing against Draco's ear. "How much do you think you can do to me till then?" he whispered softly.

Draco's eyes widened. "Harry..."

Harry pulled back a little to gaze into the silver eyes. "I wouldn't mind it... if you did things to me. If I did things to you. It'd be nice..."

Draco reached up, his hand entangling in the silk of the mess of midnight-colored hair on Harry's head. He pulled the other boy down gently, touching their lips together. They kissed gently.

Draco nearly screamed in rage when the door slammed open again. He sat up abruptly, holding the surprised Gryffindor to his chest protectively as he glared over at the new visitor. "What?!" he snapped, before he realized just _who_ was standing in his doorway.

Pansy stood meekly behind Snape as the professor gaped at the two on the bed. Draco felt the urge to bang his head on the wall. With a dark glare, he loosened his grip on Harry, and the younger boy twisted around to see who it was.

Upon seeing his potions professor standing in the doorway, Harry nearly shrieked. "P-professor Snape?!" Snape's eye appeared to twitch, and Harry cursed under his breath, making Draco raise an eyebrow.

Pansy stepped into the room a bit, connecting eyes with Draco. "That's what I came to tell you, Draco... Severus was on his way."

Draco stared at Pansy, then at Snape, and finally at Harry. On meeting the verdant green gaze, he sighed. "Well, let's just tell the whole world, then." Harry smiled at him, and Draco smiled back. Across the room, Snape was pulling himself together.

"So, you've finally managed to bed the boy, have you? What did it take? Blackmail, threats, physical force?" The professor's tone was sly and cold, and Draco could feel Harry shiver at it. He narrowed his eyes.

"We haven't 'bedded' yet, as you termed it, and he's willing, Sev."

Snape snorted. "I don't believe that."

"I don't care if you don't believe it, Severus, just accept it. Now get out, because I'm about to get some."

Snape turned somewhat reddish at that, making Harry snicker at the sight of Snape blushing. He quickly shut up, though, when said professor death glared at him. Draco snorted, and Snape growled. "Boy, I will not leave just because you're feeling particularly hormonal. I want to speak to you after dinner."

"... About what?!" Draco glared at his godfather. If he went to see Snape, he wouldn't be able to go with Harry to see Wood! "You can't do that! I'm doing something after dinner!"

Snape raised an eyebrow in sardonic askance. "And that is?"

Draco frowned. "I'm going with Harry to his meeting with Wood so that the git won't seduce him."

"I don't think Potter could seduce even a mouse if he tried, Draco."

"Shows what you know. He squeaks. Very nicely. I think he could seduce a mouse in no time, considering he sounds just like one."

Snape turned somewhat purple. "I did not need to know that! Now, boy, you are coming to meet with me after dinner whether you like it or not!"

Draco glared. "No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"No!"

"YES!"

"SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU!" roared the Gryffindor from Draco's lap. Both Slytherins jumped, and Pansy snickered behind her hand. Harry glared at them all. "This is not the time to argue, this the time to convince Draco not to come with me to meet Oliver!"

"Harry!"

Pansy smirked. "Trying to convince Draco of anything will inevitably turn into an argument, Potter."

Harry glared at her. "You be quiet, too." Pansy looked indignant at this.

Snape was eyeing Harry. A malicious glint entered the obsidian eyes, making Harry shiver. Snape slowly smiled. It was not nice. "You may accompany Potter to see Wood, Draco," the older wizard said softly, his voice dangerous and oh-so sexy. (Devil!Harry was then kicked into a Mental Voices Jail Cell by the fearfully shuddering mind of Harry.)

Harry and Draco gasped at the same time. "WHAT?"

Snape looked like he wanted to cackle. "As you are the Slytherin Seeker, I insist that you attend any meetings that involve Gryffindor's Seeker. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw may... attend, if they find out about it." Another malicious smile.

Pansy was also staring at her professor in shock. "Severus? What are you doing?"

Snape merely smirked. "Torturing Potter, what else?" He turned, his robes swishing languidly around his legs, and left the room. Pansy looked after him, then at the two on the bed. Neither noticed the dark look that crossed her face as her eyes fell on Harry before she left.

And Harry and Draco merely continued to stare...

~*~

Harry spent most of dinner alternating between glaring at Snape and Draco and scowling at his plate. He ignored Seamus as the Irish boy alternated between glaring at him and teasing him, and he quietly assured Ron and Hermione that he was all right and that he'd tell them about it after his meeting with Wood.

Sometime towards the end of dinner, Harry looked away from his plate to glare at Draco. The sight that met his eyes took his breath away.

Draco had, apparently, gotten something on his fingers during his meal, and now the blonde was cleaning away the slick coating with his tongue. Harry clenched his fists, unable to look away, as that sweet, evil tongue made appearance again and again. He felt very hot; especially in his groin. _Oh my god. Draco, you little... Quickly he looked away, focusing his eyes on the clouds above, _willing_ his arousal to go away. It did, but only after Harry caught a glimpse of Snape's Glare of Absolute Hatred._

When dessert was laid out, Harry caught Draco's eye and rose from his seat to leave. When he was out of the Hall a moment later, he waited beside the door. A few minutes later, Draco stepped out of the Great Hall, and Harry pounced.

The Slytherin's cry of surprise was quickly swallowed by Harry's kiss. Both boys moaned, arms wrapping around each other possessively. Harry pulled back first, his breathing faster than usual.

"Draco," he breathed, eyes roaming over his boyfriend's face, "I love you so much."

Draco smiled at Harry, his silver eyes glittering. "I love you too, Harry." He leaned forward again, brushing his lips against the smaller boy's, his arms tightening around Harry's waist. Harry sighed into the kiss and deepened it, his mouth opening in invitation. Draco happily obliged him by slipping his tongue into the pliant mouth beneath his. Both moaned.

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall banged open, startling both lovers. Harry and Draco pulled back from their kiss and turned their heads to stare at their new audience.

The front line, consisting of mostly sixth- and seventh-year Gryffindors, had stopped dead, jaws dropped and eyes gawking. The second wave, Slytherins and Ravenclaws, was peering over the first wave's shoulders, also gaping at the couple. The students behind them were confused, and any who got a peek of the two boys also found themselves staring in open shock.

Colin Creevey was the first to react, feelings for Harry being shoved aside in favor of a new set of pictures. "Hey, Harry! Malfoy, smile!" He lifted his camera, set to start clicking.

Harry paled, while Draco sneered. "Do you MIND? I was TRYING to snog my boyfriend, here!" With a huff, he grabbed Harry's hand and hauled the mortified Gryffindor off, ignoring the gasps of surprise from the student body. Somebody shoved Colin forward, making him nearly drop his camera, and sadly, he was unable to take a picture as Hogwarts' Sexiest Couple ran off. The students immediately began to talk loudly about what they had just seen.

Millicent Bulstrode turned to Pansy Parkinson, her eyes wide. "You weren't kidding, were you? Draco and Potter really are together!"

Pansy smirked. "Would I lie?" Ignoring Millicent's laugh, she lifted her sky-blue eyes to the darkening ceiling above, thinking to herself.__

Behind the crowd of students pouring (finally) out of the Great Hall, Albus Dumbledore smiled serenely at a little yellow canary. "Yes, Tripp, I do think they make a fine couple. More tea?"

The canary, or Tripp as Albus had named him, chirped sweetly. Beside them, Severus Snape gagged, and the canary shot an evil look at the Potions Master. Severus glared back.

On the other side of Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall sighed. "Do you really think this is a good idea, Albus?"

Albus' blue eyes twinkled at her. "Of course, Minerva. Lemon drop?"

The deputy headmistress rolled her eyes. "No, thank you, Albus."

~*~

Harry and Draco finally stopped running when they were in front of Oliver's door. They collapsed against the wall together, giggles and laughter falling from their lips at the image of all the faces of the people who had seen them.

"Oh, Merlin," gasped Draco, one hand on Harry's back. "I can't believe their faces! It was... priceless!" He cracked up again, eyes closing tightly.

Harry giggled to himself, letting one hand run over Draco's side. "Gods, I can't believe Colin's face... he looked like he had swallowed a lemon!" He covered his mouth to keep from guffawing.

Draco turned his head, burying his face in Harry's silky hair as a whisper escaped his mouth. "Crazy Potter..."

Harry looked up suddenly, so suddenly that Draco's head slipped and their lips met dead on. Harry nearly pulled back at the sudden contact, but Draco deepened the kiss, and Harry had no choice but to return it. Besides, he didn't mind a kiss that much, did he?

He smiled against Draco's lips, taking the lead this time and parting his mouth to slide his tongue into the other's. Gods, how he loved this feeling! It made him so warm, and Draco was _so sexy... He moaned into the kiss as Draco's tongue slid against his. Slowly he turned, so his back was against the wall and Draco in front of him. Draco's arm was hot against his back, and the hand in his hair felt _so_ wonderful..._

Without thinking, he broke the kiss and ducked his head under Draco's, pressing his lips to the beating pulse under the pale skin. "Draco," he whispered, as he kissed his boyfriend's neck. Above him, Draco groaned.

"Harry, no... not here..." The smooth voice, usually cool and collected, was deep and breathless. Harry felt a trill in his chest at the sound of it.

"You know you love it," he whispered back, one hand beginning to roam over the smooth, firm chest of his beloved.

Silver eyes opened slightly, then widened, as long fingers tightened around black fabric. "No, Harry, _not here," the voice, once breathless, now firm, stated, making Harry stop his actions._

He pulled back and scowled up at Draco. "What is it? You've never complained before about where we make out." But Draco wasn't looking at him, instead glaring at something behind Harry. Harry's brows furrowed, and he turned around.

Oliver Wood was standing in the doorway to his room, hazel eyes wide. The older man was shirtless and had a towel over his shoulders, with a bottle of Butterbeer in his hand. Harry stiffened at the way the Keeper's eyes roamed over them, and suddenly he felt like hiding behind Draco.

"Oliver," he whispered, fingers tightening on Draco's robes. "Um... hi."

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	13. The Good Old Detention Cliché, Take 2

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 13 : The Good Old Detention Cliché, Take 2**

~*~

Draco felt like growling at the look that Oliver was directing at Harry. _Bloody Gryffindor, thinking he can waltz in here and steal MY Harry... and he just saw us kissing!_ Draco's eyes narrowed at the thought and he cleared his throat. The muscular coach glanced from the black-haired Seeker to the silver-haired one behind him and froze at the glare. Oliver quickly dropped his gaze and stepped back into his room, leaving the door open for the two.

"You might as well come in, both of you, before someone else comes up and takes points away."

Harry glanced back at Draco. "Well, you wanted to come with me."

"I did." However, Draco had no intention of moving. "I can't believe him."

Harry grinned. "Just because he just got out of the shower doesn't mean he was planning to seduce me, Drac."

Draco sighed. "Harry, you don't know anything."

"I do too!"

"Then you would know that he _is_ out to get you by the subtext of this entire meeting. I can't take you anywhere, can I, Harry?" Ignoring the answering exasperated sigh, he let go of Harry, reached down to take his hand, and pulled him to and through the door.

The interior of Oliver's room was very... _Gryffindorey_. Red plush furniture with gold pillows, an intricate red and gold rug, and a red comforter with gold sheets and pillows on the bed all filled the room with Gryffindorness. A painting of Godric Gryffindor hung on the wall above a welcoming fireplace. A desk sat in front of a window, and a few yards to the side of that was a closed door.

Draco nearly recoiled in horror at the blatant Gryffindor colors. However, knowing that Harry was a fervent Gryffindor and would _not_ appreciate such an obvious stab at his House, Draco held back this deep urge, while inwardly shuddering at the happy bunny lovey (as Blaise has been known to term anything related to Gryffindor) décor. He let Harry take the lead, and the dark-haired boy pulled him to a small living area. They sat down on the couch together.

Oliver was at the desk, rummaging through the papers on top. "Actually, it's good that you're both here," his deep (and sexy) voice sounded. Harry and Draco exchanged confused glances. Oliver looked up at them with a smile. "I had planned to hunt both of you down, along with the other recruits, but for some reason, all of the Slytherins I've tried to ask to tell you, Mr. Malfoy, have mysteriously avoided me..."

Draco shifted, his lips curling into what was undoubtedly a smirk.

Oliver grinned. "No matter. I've got you both, now, even if the circumstances of you both joining me here are unusual in themselves... I have to admit, Harry, I've never seen you making out in the hall with someone before."

Harry flushed red. Draco snorted. "Expect it to happen a lot more in the future."

The older man raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So you two are an item, and that wasn't a dare?"

Draco felt like scowling. "Yes. Harry and I are dating. Do you have a problem with that?"

Oliver shrugged. "Can't really say. Has it affected your performance?"

Both boys blinked. "Performance?" Harry ventured.

"In Quidditch. Has being a couple had negative effects on your performance as Seekers?"

The two exchanged glances. "We wouldn't know. We haven't practiced or played together yet," Draco said.

Oliver was rooting through his papers again. "Ah. Well, you had better find out soon. I suggest having a practice together before you two play each other, otherwise the game might be affected. Damn!" he suddenly cursed. "It's in the staff room!"

Harry leaned forward a bit, his hands resting on his knees. "What is?"

Oliver glanced at him. "What I wanted to talk to you about."

"And that is...?" Draco offered, leaning back against the couch.

Oliver walked to a tall wardrobe and opened it. He threw the towel aside as he started to search for something. "I can't really explain it fully, but I came here for another reason besides helping Hooch. The International Quidditch Association sent me here to find graduating or near-graduating players who would be likely to make national teams." He fished out a shirt and pulled it on.

Harry stared for a moment, his mind running over what Oliver had told him. Being an intelligent boy, he came to a conclusion rather quickly. "So... we're likely to get accepted to a national team? Me and Drac?"

"Draco and I," Draco corrected absentmindedly.

Harry made a face at him. "Shut it, you. Drac and I."

"Draco."

"Drac."

Draco sighed.

Harry grinned and looked back at Oliver ... only to find him mere inches from his face. "Augh!" Harry jumped back, half-landing in Draco's lap. "Oliver! Don't do that!"

Oliver laughed and straightened. "Sorry. I'm going to run to the staff room for a minute. Can you two wait here while I'm gone without blowing my room up?" 

Harry nodded, while Draco snorted and merely stared at the ceiling. Oliver took that as a yes and left.

The moment the door shut, Harry turned around and hit Draco's arm.

"Ow!"

"I told you he wanted to talk about Quidditch!"

Draco rubbed his arm, dubiously eyeing Harry's fist. "I didn't know you were that strong," he muttered, earning a scathing glare from Harry's direction.

Harry rolled his eyes. "All Oliver wanted was to talk about some recruit thing. He never wanted to seduce me! Why do you always come to the conclusion that if someone wants to talk to me, they want to seduce me or something like that?"

Draco put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. "Because it's true."

"It is not."

"It is too, Harry. At least most of the time. Although most people are too shy and embarrassed about it, there are some who will just grab you and kiss the living daylights out of you. Like Finnigan," he added darkly, and Harry grinned. "Those are the ones you have to worry about, and therefore I have to worry about. I don't want anyone else kissing you. You're mine."

Harry stopped short of replying, his eyes widening slightly at hearing those two words. "Draco, you've said that before."

Draco opened an eye to stare at Harry. "What?"

"You said that before. Last year, at Christmas. When you gave me Wormtail."

The slim blond opened the other eye and sat up. "You remember that?"

Harry blinked, shocked that Draco would think that he wouldn't. "Of course I do! It's when everything changed!"

A blond eyebrow rose as Draco's mind raced. "What do you mean?"

"It's when... I don't know, the dynamics of our entire relationship changed. You saved me. You, my archrival, _saved me._ And you claimed me, you said no one could kill me but you. And then for the rest of the year, we didn't fight as much, we were _almost_ civil to each other, and... I started to trust you. I started thinking that you might be okay, that you might not turn into one of Voldemort's little minions. I didn't exactly _like_ you, but... I didn't think you were that bad anymore. I didn't _hate_ you. I mean, you were still a git and a slimy bastard and a royal pain in the arse, but –"

Draco's voice was dry when he interrupted. "I'm glad you think so highly of me."

Harry grinned. "Well, you _are._"

"Oh, Harry... Surely you think more of me than that?"

The smaller boy looked away, as if trying to hide something. The act was ruined by his mischievous grin. "Well..."

Draco smirked. "You're a terrible liar, Harry. You think I'm the Sex God of all sex gods, don't you?"

Harry felt his face heat up. "I... well, I wouldn't exactly call you a Sex God, but you are handsome."

The silver dragon blinked, a bit stung. "Only handsome?"

Harry laughed at the indignation in Draco's voice. "Sexy, then. Pretty. Drop dead gorgeous. You're beautiful, Draco." The Gryffindor fell backwards and landed in his Slytherin's lap. He smiled up at the scowling blond. "You're cute when you're angry."

Draco glared down at him. "Flattery will get you nowhere." He paused then, his mind running back over the conversation. "We're going to have a long talk later, Harry."

Harry stopped his teasing then, blinking up at Draco. "About what?"

"About us. About what you said. About Christmas last year. All of that."

"So we're basically going to have a long talk about how we fell in love with each other?"

"Yes."

"Excellent. When?"

Draco smiled down at Harry, a sweet expression he reserved for the little Gryffindor. "When would you like?"

Harry cocked his head to the side, thinking. "How about... tomorrow. We can go on a walk after lunch."

Draco looked a bit doubtful at the suggestion. "It's supposed to rain tomorrow, angel."

"Damn. What time?"

"Mid-afternoon."

"We can make it."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "I don't know..."

Harry sat up, and in a swift movement planted himself in Draco's lap. He didn't even realize the evocative meaning of his position – knees firmly straddling Draco's narrow hips, making it look very suggestive – as he laid his hands on Draco's shoulders and looked at him pleadingly, puppy eyes and all. "Come on, Drac! We can make it, and if not, it's just a little rain. It won't kill us. Please? Snape'll probably have us doing actual work in detention because he caught us kissing last time, so we won't get to talk then."

Draco would have been distracted by his boyfriend's position, if it hadn't been for the look in Harry's eyes. "What about tonight?" A light flush flew over Harry's cheeks, and Draco smiled. "You want some 'us' time, don't you?"

Harry's blush increased. "Maybe just a little cuddling..."

Draco chuckled. "Fine. We'll cuddle tonight and go on a walk tomorrow. I wouldn't mind a little cuddling either." Harry smiled at him and leaned forward to kiss him.

~*~

In another part of the school, Oliver was gathering the papers he had left. _I can't believe Malfoy. Did he really think that I was out to get Harry?_

With a sigh, he placed the last paper on top of his stack and began to straighten it. _Of course he did. I saw the look in his eyes. He looked ready to kill me if I so as touched Harry._

_And he's wrong. I'm not after Harry. I'm just finding suitable Quidditch players. I don't care if Harry gets a boyfriend unless it hurts his game. Just because I noticed that Harry had filled out nicely over the years..._

Oliver snorted and walked out of the room. _Okay, so the boy's gorgeous. Everyone can see that. Just because I noticed how beautiful Harry is doesn't mean Malfoy has to get possessive of him. He's acting like a child._

A few minutes of stewing later, the unaware-that-he-had-checked-Harry-out-not-once-but-twice Oliver reached his bedroom. Almost unconsciously, he shot a look at the spot he had found Draco and Harry earlier as he muttered an unlocking charm and opened the door.

He had taken not two steps into the room when his gaze found the two on the couch. Oliver's eyes narrowed. This was his bedroom, not a make-out place for everyone and their lover! 

He cleared his throat loudly and was rewarded with the two lovebirds jerking apart at the sound. He let a small smirk come over his face for a moment before wiping it off and walking to a chair stationed across from the couch. He sat down and raised an eyebrow at the blushing Harry and bristling Draco across from him. "Am I interrupting anything, by chance?"

Harry flushed deeper. "Sorry, Oliver..."

Oliver smiled. "Don't worry about it, Harry. Now, would you two like to hear my proposition?"

Harry and Draco exchanged glances. Draco answered him. "Go ahead."

~*~

Harry sat back after hearing the full explanation, his brow furrowed. "So... let me get this straight. You were chosen by the International Quidditch Association with a bunch of other people to be sent to a school to find potential future league players?"

"Yes."

"I see... and you're going to try to recruit us for the league?"

"Yep."

"I see... and not only that, but you're also here to train us to use our skills on the battlefield as well?"

"Uh-huh."

"I see... and in addition to all that, you're going to help Madam Hooch teach the younger players and player-wannabes the ways of Quidditch?"

"You got it."

"I see... hmm. So really, it doesn't matter what House we're in, you're gonna get us all together anyway and coach us no matter how much we bicker with each other?"

Oliver grinned. "A little fighting can't scare me away, Harry. You know that. I will not let prejudice enter the training ground."

 Harry smiled back. "Too true."

Next to the dark-haired Gryffindor, a blond Slytherin named Draco sulked. _I was so sure he'd go after Harry. He hasn't made a move all night. Grr. I know he's after my Harry. I know it! I'll teach him... once he makes his move. Mwahahaha..._

Harry, thankfully, had no idea what his beloved was thinking. "So, who all is up for recruiting?"

"Well, there's you and Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Seamus Finnigan, Blaise Zabini..." Oliver went on to list a few names that Harry recognized as sixth-years. "...And Ginny Weasley. One more seventh-year, I think, but I'd have to check the list. Oh, yes! The Weasley boy. That's about it."

Harry nodded, his expression turning thoughtful. Draco glanced at the raven-haired Gryffindor, before his eyes strayed down to the paper on his lap. Harry had a near identical one, the only difference being the letters were addressed individually. The letter summed up what Oliver had told them, with some additional information about who to contact and how rare an opportunity it was. Draco eyed the paper with distrust. The whole thing sounded shady to him.

(Then again, Draco could suspect a six-year-old of harboring a wanted murderer under its bed. All it took was one hair out of place, and Draco disbelieved everything that came out of the kid's mouth. Not that six-year-olds are particularly trust-worthy to begin with, but...)

The blond closed his eyes and listened with one ear to the conversation Harry and Oliver were now carrying (something about how tomatoes were good Quaffle substitutes – something the Keeper obviously, and quite loudly, didn't agree with). When the argument weakened and ended, there was a comfortable silence between the three.

Draco felt something brush his hand then. He opened his eyes and glanced down to see Harry's fingers tracing patterns on the back of his hand. He held back a smile. "Harry, I think it's time to go."

Harry slowly nodded. "Yeah." He looked up and smiled at Oliver. "It is time to go." He took Draco's hand and stood up, the Slytherin standing with him.

Oliver stood. "Well, then. I thank ye gents for sitting down and talking with me. If you have any questions, see me after classes. You can find me either here or in the staff room. All right?"

Harry's smile widened. "Sure. See you later, Oliver." The three walked to the door together, and Oliver opened the door for them. Draco walked out silently, and Harry followed him with a smile and a wave to Oliver.

The ex-Gryffindor watched them as they walked down the hall. Finally, they disappeared around a corner, but not before Draco turned around and made a rude hand gesture. Oliver's eye twitched.

_... I really hate Slytherins._

~*~

Saturday dawned on sapphire skies and amber dew, with silver clouds in the west. The day was to be seized, and seize it the students did.

Students woke with smiles on their faces, most having the same idea of going outside to play. Common rooms were warm and friendly, even the Slytherin and Ravenclaw common rooms. All through the morning, students would walk outside in clumps of all ages and sizes, and near everyone would be playing some game, Quidditch or otherwise, or doing homework in the peaceful sunshine. Even the teachers smiled more than usual, if you excused Professor Snape, who tended to scowl twice as much as on normal days.

Breakfast was a loud and amazed affair, with jaws dropping over honeyed toast and scrambled eggs as Harry and Draco entered hand-in-hand. The disbelief from the end of dinner last night extended to the morning meal, making the chatter wild and erratic, at least when the two lovebirds made their appearance. (Unbeknownst to them, it had been pleasant and relaxed before then, as most people had forgotten about last night's interruption.)

There was much glaring. Gaggles of girls (and some boys) glared at Draco, then at Harry, for stealing the two hottest boys in Hogwarts. Gryffindor glared at Draco, and Slytherin glared at Harry. Snape glared at everyone. The canary glared at a crumpet.

Not five minutes went by through the course of the meal without someone confronting either boy about their relationship – most of the time, it was Harry. (Poor Harry.) Thus, by the end of breakfast, Harry had every right to want the apocalypse, and Draco went "unnoticed" when he tripped several of Harry's attackers in the halls.

The morning passed slowly, with Harry hiding in his room and Draco prowling the halls. Finally, at noon, the two met at the front doors. Harry had a picnic basket Dobby had prepared for them.

The two set off together, easily sidestepping and cleverly avoiding altogether any "curious" stalkers – I mean, passing pedestrians, including Colin Creevey, who was misled enough to walk into a tree. (The camera was not amused.) After a long walk, filled with chirping birds, students' laughter, and a cursing Draco, the couple reached a hidden clearing beside the lake that would keep them from prying eyes.

Harry took the blanket from the basket and handed the basket to Draco. The Slytherin watched in bemusement as Harry carefully spread the blanket out across the soft grass.

"I thought I was supposed to be the perfectionist, Potter," he commented when Harry took time to straighten each corner meticulously.

Harry flashed a grin at him. "It's my turn today. Now sit down."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yes, oh mighty Gryffindor, I shall do as you obey," he drawled as he set the basket on the blanket and himself beside it. 

Harry looked over the blanket one more time before sitting down as well. He opened the basket and began taking out plates and glasses. Draco helped by taking out a couple of flasks and the silverware. One look inside a flask revealed that it contained pumpkin juice. The dishes held sandwiches and cold sides, and one even went so far as to hold brownies! (How dare it!)

The two dug in with gusto, happily chatting over random items, such as how Oliver's proposition turned out and what Snape would do to them tonight. (Stop thinking nasties, you pervies!) When the last brownie crumb was cleared away and the last drop of pumpkin juice swallowed, Harry and Draco laid back and held a time-honored tradition that all students paid homage to at least once at Hogwarts.

They looked at the gathering clouds and tried to figure out what shapes they were.

"That one looks like a duck."

"A what?"

"A duck, Draco. It's a waterfowl."

"Ah. Well, that one looks like the Weasel."

"Draco!"

A sniff. "Just because we're going out doesn't mean that I can't insult your friends."

"But... but..."

"Yes?"

"... But you're supposed to become a happy, sweet, teary, pushover goodie-goodie who's buddy-buddy with Ron and a great study-friend of Hermione! Come on, Drac, go with the script!" ***

Draco looked at Harry strangely. "Harry, what in the name of Merlin have you been reading? What is a... 'script'...? And where the hell did you get the idea that I'd EVER be even remotely nice to Weasley?!"

Harry blushed, but it was only a tiny bit, I swear! "Um... never mind, then. But... try not to insult them around me, okay? They're my best friends."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll only insult Weasley and Granger when they are or you are not around."

Harry sighed in fond exasperation. "Thank you, Draco."

They lay there in silence, until Harry rolled onto his side to face Draco. Draco glanced up at him in question, the green specks in his eyes outdoing the blue for the moment. "What is it?"

Harry tilted his head slightly, as he reached out with his free hand to brush some silky platinum locks from Draco's eyes. "Can we talk now?"

The silver in those eyes softened slightly. "Yes. Where do you want to start?"

"How about with Wormtail." Harry closed his eyes, then opened them, the green beautifully reflected from their depths. "Why?"

One corner of the Slytherin's mouth lifted. "Always with the hard ones, eh?" He looked back at the clouding sky in thought. "I didn't want you to die at his hands." Both of them knew that Draco didn't mean Wormtail. "And you wanted to die." He lifted a hand to calm Harry when the boy started at the words. "I could see it in your eyes, Harry. You were waiting for the Dark Lord to kill you. I didn't want you to die. You were the only one at school who was my equal, the only person I could depend on to keep me on my toes. And, I suppose, after five and a half years of being your enemy, I had grown attached to you, to our fights.

"So I decided that if you were going to die, I would kill you. You're _mine_ to kill, not his. Never that bastard's. Only mine."

Harry was silent. Draco decided to keep talking, lest he lose the nerve now. "I gave you Wormtail because I hated the little shit. He always tried to outdo my father, always tried to get him in trouble, always pissed me off. He's disgusting. I hate him. I hope he gets the Kiss."

He sighed, mind almost unconsciously going back to that night. "Did you ever realize you were bleeding, Harry? When you looked at me, you were bleeding. It... didn't look right on you."

Harry spoke up now, his voice barely a whisper. "Why did you kiss me?"

Draco closed his eyes. "I don't know. Because you were there. Because you were you and I wanted to have you more than anything. Because... it just felt right."

Harry reached out to touch Draco's face again. "Did you know that was my first kiss?"

Draco opened his eyes to stare at the Gryffindor. "What?"

"That was my first kiss." Harry smiled a bit, fingers playing over Draco's skin. "I know, it's a bit sad when you don't get your first kiss until the middle of your sixth year, from your archrival no less, but... it was. I couldn't believe it. You're like... fire and ice together, Draco. Your skin's so warm, but you look so cold..."

Draco grinned. "It's a perfected Malfoy look, you know."

Harry snorted. "Malfoy look, indeed. You just like to scare first years."

"That, too."

"Oh, Draco..." Harry leant down to kiss his boyfriend. When he pulled back, Draco pouted at him, and Harry laughed. "You pout adorably, Drac."

Draco look scandalized. "I do not pout!"

The Gryffindor grinned. "Yeah, you don't pout, and I can't play Quidditch."

Draco glared.

Harry snickered. "I can't believe I feel safe around _you._ Big baby."

The blond paused right before he would have retorted with an insult. "What do you mean by that?"

Harry blinked. "Mean by what?"

"Feeling safe."

"Oh. I don't know. Ever since Christmas I've felt safe 'round you. Dunno why."

Draco stared. "...What do you mean by that?"

"Well..." Harry looked at the ground. "Before... that night... I always felt like I was in danger when you were near. You always wanted to hurt me. Then, after Christmas, that feeling... went away. Even though you glared at me and tried to get me detention and picked fights with me, you felt... safe, like you didn't mean it. I felt like I could trust you." He flushed a bit, attracting Draco's attention to his reddening ears. "It sounds stupid, I know, but I –"

"It's not stupid."

"What?" Harry looked up, his eyes connecting with Draco's silver ones. "Why do you say that?"

Draco nearly started at the brilliance of the bright green orbs. "It's not stupid... because after Christmas, my feelings changed for you. Drastically. I fell in love with you, Harry."

~*~

In the far distance, thunder rumbled, and there was a slight flash of lightning in the darkening clouds. Most of the students looked up from what they were doing, saw the dark horizon, and decided to go in. However, some did not.

Two of those students were Harry and Draco, who were too deep into conversation to begin to consider the outside world.

~*~

Harry forgot any embarrassment or nostalgia he might have been experiencing at that moment. Even though he knew that Draco loved him, to hear him say that he was _in love_ with him... was incredibly shocking, to say the least. "You... fell in love with me...?" He slowly sat up, staring down at Draco, eyes wide.

Draco smiled slightly. "Yes, Harry, I did," he stated softly, his voice dropping to a deep timbre that made a shiver run up Harry's spine. It was not unpleasant. "For the rest of break last year, you were in the hospital, and I was worried about you. It confused me greatly; I had no idea why I should worry about you, my archrival. I fretted over it in private, even asked Blaise about it – without giving any names – and some late-night thinking led me to discover some horrible, wonderful things about my feelings for you.

"I wanted to protect you, wanted to be friends with you, wanted... you. Even that night with Wormtail, I wanted to protect you, so I swore that only I could kill you." He grinned as Harry's eyebrows rose. "Yes, I know, it's twisted, but it made sense at the time. Still does.

"Then my mind had strayed to what it would be like to kill you, if we ever met in battle or I suddenly got murderous during a Quidditch game. It was... brutal. The thought of you dying at my hands made me uncomfortable, but even for a while before then, the thought of _him_ killing you, torturing you, even _touching_ you made me want to retch." He turned his head, letting his hair fall into his eyes as he stared into the distance. "Images of him hurting you played in my mind for hours, between bits of sleep and violent dreams. Then the images changed. I was there, and I saved you. I stopped him from killing you, then killed him, while holding you close. You opened your eyes to look at me... and you _smiled._

"And all the horrible images of him faded away, replaced with that smile. It was just a fantasy, but it made me feel... light-headed. Excited. Never had I imagined a smile to be so wonderful.

"I'm not an idiot, so I figured out my feelings rather quickly. I cared about you. Even if it was hate, it was still emotion, and I could no longer pretend that I would feel nothing if you died.

"Yes, I hated you at that point. I hated you for not accepting my friendship, for hating me, for making me feel so confused. I..." He paused, unconsciously biting his bottom lip as he thought about what he was about to reveal. His voice quieted.

"All during our years together, with our mad rivalry and enmity, I hated you because you didn't take my hand on the train. You turned to a _Weasley,_ a person whose family I absolutely abhor. I was hurt, I was angered, and I despised you. I truly wanted to hurt you, and so I set out to make your life miserable. All the while wishing that you had taken _my_ hand, so that I could have a friend and my father would be happy." He paused again, thinking over what he had said. "Yes, my father told me to make friends with you. He wanted you to turn to the dark side, obviously. But... do you remember, Harry, when we first met? Before the train, in that robe shop?"

Harry's voice was quiet. "Yes."

"When you came in, something came over me. You looked so horrible, in those oversized clothes and those broken glasses, but there was something... just, something about you that made me want to talk to you, even if you looked like a street urchin. Then you got up close, and I could see your face... You were scrawny, you had a bit of dirt on your nose, and your hair looked awful. Yet, you had a glow about you, and you looked around amazed at everything. You were... enchanting, with your eyes wide and almost glowing with wonder. I spoke to you." He smirked slightly. He rolled over onto his side, facing Harry, his eyes finding the astonished green orbs immediately. "I must have sounded awful to you."

Harry let a small smile pass over his lips. "You did. You reminded me of my cousin. You were annoying, but... you were the first magical person, besides Hagrid, that I really spoke with, and you were my age. That made you kind of special to me."

Draco blinked. "Really?" Harry nodded. "Heh... a bit ironic, I'd say."

Harry grinned slightly. "Yeah."

Draco closed his eyes, a smile on his lips. "Right... where was I? Oh, yes.

"I tried to make friends with you because you were that boy, the fascinating boy from the robe shop. I wanted you to like me. And... you hated me, so, childishly, I hated you back.

"That night, when I imagined you smiling at me, I fell asleep dreaming of you. They were pleasant dreams, and yes, Harry, they were innocent." Harry snickered softly, making Draco reach over and take the smaller boy's hand. "The next day was spent worrying over you, so that night I snuck into the Infirmary to see you.

"When I saw you, I couldn't keep my feelings in. I began talking to you, letting my thoughts be organized as I told you how I felt. After my mind was in order and I knew exactly how I felt, there was only one thought left.

"'I love you.'" At Harry's soft gasp, he squeezed the captured hand slightly. "That night I kissed you, then ran back to my room as fast as I could. I spent the night lying awake and running my fingers over my lips, in wonder that I felt this way about you, my archrival, and that it felt so... right. I had fallen in love with you."

The two boys were silent, each in his own thoughts, yet both could read the thoughts in the other's eyes. Fingers ran over warm skin absentmindedly, as the two boys bonded further, their hands enjoined and their hearts even closer.

Finally Harry spoke, his tone soft and revered. "That was why I felt safe around you... you loved me. You didn't want to hurt me. You wanted to _protect_ me. I could feel this, and... I started to trust you."

Draco sat up then, his gaze staying locked with Harry's. "Yes."

They leant in at the same time, so their lips met halfway, marking a gentle, loving kiss. Their entwined hands tightened their grips on each other.

As they kissed, it began to rain slightly, wetting their clothes and soaking their hair. Neither Harry nor Draco noticed the rain, until they pulled back and Harry nudged Draco's nose with his. They both felt the wetness from the feeling, and at the same time, they looked up to stare at the grey sky.

"It's raining," Harry whispered, his soft eyes returning to those of his beloved.

Draco looked back at him. "It is." Neither made any move. "Harry..."

Harry suddenly leant forward and kissed him, wetly and with such feeling that it left Draco breathless. "I love you," he said when he pulled away, and Draco's mouth dropped open at the emotion in the green depths.

"Harry..." he repeated softly, his other hand reaching for Harry's free one. Lightning flashed in the sky above them, but neither boy noticed.

"I love you," Harry said again, then stopped, his eyes widening. "I love you," he repeated. "I've been saying that all this time... and... I never realized it. I really love you, Draco. And I think I'm falling in love with you."

Draco stopped, his eyes widening. "Wha..."

Harry smiled, and Draco thought he looked radiant. The green-eyed boy then slipped his glasses off, folded them, and tucked them into his robe pocket. His hand returned to Draco's, but the silver-eyed boy took no notice, so entranced by Harry was he.

"Harry..." Draco's voice was quiet and deep with barely revealed emotion. "I never thought that you'd fall in love with me... I thought that you'd never return my feelings, and when you did, I told myself that you'd never fall in love with me, and... you did. You are."

Harry's smile widened. "I am, Draco. I really am."

Draco leant forward again, this time leading Harry in a deep kiss that made both boys shiver at its intensity. Their hands let go, and Harry reached up to grip Draco's shoulders, as the other boy's arms slid around his waist. He let Draco push him to the blanket, ignoring the dampness of the blanket and the chill of the rain, as Draco's body was warm above his. His knees bent slightly, as Draco settled between his legs comfortably, kneeling slightly on the wet ground. Their mouths opened, and tongues met and danced together, as Harry's hands ran through Draco's hair and Draco's fingers held Harry's waist.

***BOOM**!*

The boys jerked apart at the loud noise, their grips on each other tightening in surprise. Silver eyes stared into green as the two listened to the fading rumbles of thunder. Draco slowly relaxed against Harry, as the smaller boy took a deep, shaky breath.

"Maybe we should go in," the older boy whispered, his lips brushing Harry's ear. The raven-haired boy shivered.

"Yeah..."

They separated in silence, keeping close to each other in unspoken devotion as they gathered the dishes and put them in the basket. When finished, Harry pulled out his glasses and slipped them on, to Draco's slight disappointment. They stood at the same time, Harry picking up the blanket and folding it absentmindedly while Draco picked up the basket. Together they started back to the castle.

Lightning flashed again, and Harry and Draco broke into a run. They made it to the front doors in record time, joining a few other students who had stayed outside as well. The small group tumbled inside, Harry's hand clutching Draco's as the taller boy kissed his hair. They separated from the other students, who were too busy wringing out their clothes to notice the couple, and walked down the corridor toward Draco's rooms.

~*~

When they reached the Slytherin's rooms, they decided to take separate showers, as nice as the other option sounded. Draco let Harry go first, and while the Gryffindor was in the bathroom, he dried their clothes and lit a fire in the fireplace. Dobby appeared to take the basket away, and as he watched his former master tenderly fold Harry's clothes, the elf smiled before disappearing.

Draco was just finishing folding Harry's vest when the bathroom door opened. He turned, his mouth opening to tell Harry something, but his mouth stayed open in silence as his eyes fixated on the vision in front of him.

Harry was wearing the clothes Draco had handed him earlier – black pants that were threatening to fall off his slim hips and an open, button-up white shirt. The cuffs were unbuttoned as well. The image was _supposed_ to make Harry look like a slob, but somehow... Draco felt like he would salivate at the sight of Harry's wet chest.

With a start, he realized he was staring, and Harry was smiling. Quickly he whirled around, swallowing. _Idiot!_

Warm arms slid around his waist from behind. "It's all right to stare, Draco," Harry whispered into his ear, making Draco close his eyes. "I don't mind..."

Draco heard the uncertainty in his love's voice and had to smile. He reached down to cover Harry's hands with his own. "I don't want to scare you, Harry. I'd never force you into anything, no matter how sex-crazed I seem. If you don't want me to stare at you like that, I won't. Or at least I'll try not to."

He felt a smile bloom against his neck. "I really don't mind. It just... makes me feel funny."

Draco nodded knowingly. "Ah, yes. I make you hot, don't I?"

Harry groaned in answer. "Draco..."

The Slytherin grinned. "Let me go so that I can take a shower, angel. I need to wash my hair."

Harry let go, and when Draco turned around to face him, the Gryffindor rolled his eyes dramatically. "You and your hair."

Draco cackled. "You're just jealous of its beauty." He mussed up Harry's raven locks as he sauntered past the smaller boy, making Harry protest and swipe at him. He danced out of range and disappeared into the bathroom.

After a moment he stuck his head back out. "Zip your pants up, Harry."

Colorful language met his ears, and laughingly Draco dodged an air-born pillow as he shut the bathroom door.

~*~

The two spent the rest of the afternoon in Draco's room, lounging on the soft bed and talking to each other in soft voices. A house elf brought up some dinner for the couple, and after a few hours of talking, eating, and kissing, Harry and Draco set off to meet Snape for detention.

They didn't speak as they climbed the stairs to the Astronomy Tower, but when they met Snape outside the room, he stared pointedly at their joined hands until both boys let go. Draco laid a patronizing glare on Snape as they walked into the room, and Harry merely ducked his head, in hopes that Snape wouldn't torture him tonight.

Snape banged the door shut behind them, making Harry sigh and Draco frown. They turned to face the professor, just as the tall man began rattling off orders.

"You will clean all of the telescopes in here without the aid of your wands. The cleaning items are on the table. You have one hour. You will not talk. The alcohol that you got into last time has been confiscated, and only I know about it. If you finish early, you will sit quietly without bothering the other person. No physical contact between the two of you is allowed."

Harry and Draco sported twin expressions of doom on their face. No wands? No talking? No physical contact?! Damn it, Snape really DID live for torture!

Snape narrowed his eyes at their sullen expressions. "Don't pout at me, Mr. Malfoy. Now, both of you, hand me your wands." Harry quietly handed over his wand, while Draco attempted to stare Snape down. Snape sighed and looked at Harry. "Potter, retrieve Mr. Malfoy's wand, if you would."

Harry's face heated up slightly, but he obeyed quickly, reaching into Draco's pocket and taking out the wand to hand to Snape, ignoring Draco's incredulous cry of "Harry!"

Snape sneered. "Ten points from Gryffindor. I said no physical contact, Potter." 

Harry looked up in shock, his mouth opening automatically to retort about the unfairness, but Snape glared at him so that he quickly forgot what he was going to say. The professor then turned and walked out, the door slamming behind him. The Gryffindor glared after him with a sulky scowl.

"You tell me to get the wand, then you take points away when I do. Stupid git. I hate him. Stupid Snape." And on Harry muttered, cursing Snape under his breath.

Beside him, Draco was shaking his head. He never failed to get a kick out of Gryffindor point deductions. "At least it was only ten this time, Harry. Last time you pulled that stunt, he took off fifty."

Harry paused in the middle of threatening to defenestrate his Potions professor and stared at Draco. "What do you mean, last time?" Draco merely lifted an eyebrow, and Harry tried valiantly to remember this so-called 'last time.' After a moment of thought, he muttered an intelligent "Oh."

Draco grinned, and a flashback began.

~*~

_Harry and Draco stood at least two feet apart as they glared up at Snape. As the oily man spat out their instructions, the two sixth-year boys sent scathing glares at each other, each stating plainly in his death-glare exactly what he wanted to do to his rival. (And no, it did _not_ involve anything remotely 'nice'. It was more along the lines of 'long, drawn-out, excruciating torture.')_

_"...and if I hear one word from either of you, I will deduct fifty points from your House. Yes, that includes Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy." Draco glared. "Now, give me your wands."_

_Harry narrowed his eyes, and after a short staring contest with his teacher, grudgingly pulled out his wand and handed it over. Draco, on the other hand, crossed his arms stubbornly and turned his back on his professor. Snape's eye twitched._

_"Potter, get me the wand. Now."_

_Harry eyed the professor warily before glaring at Draco. Draco ignored them both. A glint appeared in Harry's eyes, and without giving the blond boy time to react, he plunged his hand into the pocket of Draco's robes and seized the wand._

_Draco froze, his eyes widening. "POTTER!" he snarled, whirling around and advancing on the grinning Harry, who threw the wand at Snape and ran like hell. Snape could only watch in shock as his two most troublesome students bolted from the room – one laughing, one cursing._

_He waited a few minutes to calm his rising temper, then started for the door. Before he could take more than two steps, however, the two rivals rushed into the room, Harry still running from Draco. The Gryffindor quickly grabbed hold of Snape's arm and spun himself around to hide behind the professor, as Draco came to a sputtering stop before the tall wizard. Snape's mouth dropped open, as Harry used him as a shield from the growling Slytherin._

_Harry let him go, and Snape took quick steps away from the dark-haired boy, just in time for Draco to launch himself at Harry. They fell to the floor, grappling for dominance, rolling over the floor and knocking several chairs and a desk over. Finally, Draco won out, finding a place on top of a smirking Harry and pinning him to the floor. He raised his fist to strike._

_Snape chose that moment to get his voice back. "POTTER! MALFOY! STOP RIGHT THERE!"_

_The two boys froze. "Shit," they stated softly at the same time. Snape's eye twitched again._

_"Malfoy, get off him right now! Thirty points from Slytherin! You should know better than to attack another student!"_

_Draco shared a dark look with Harry before reluctantly lowering his fist and getting off the smaller boy. Harry stood up by himself, and Snape could see a smile threatening to take over the boy's features._

_"POTTER! Fifty points from Gryffindor!"_

_Any hint of a smile disappeared instantly. "For what?!" Harry shot back, giving the professor an incredulous look._

_Snape actually growled. "For existing! Now get to work!" He turned around and stalked to the door, clutching the wands in his hands. Behind him, he could hear the two boys grumbling and starting on cleaning the room. A sudden yelp made him spin back around._

_Draco was standing over Harry, who was on the ground clutching his head. The Slytherin had a tray in his hand and held it in such a way that merely the position gave away his guiltiness of hitting the Gryffindor. Harry made no attack in response and Snape nearly screamed._

_"DRACO MALFOY! Twenty points from Slytherin! DO NOT TOUCH HIM!"_

_Draco glared at him now. "It's –"_

_Snape snarled. "I don't CARE if you think it's his fault, DO NOT HIT HIM! Not in my classroom, not on this campus! You just got another detention, boy!" He walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. The noise somehow made him feel better. With a huff, he stalked down the hall to his rooms, muttering under his breath about insolent Slytherins and annoying Gryffindors._

_Back in the room, Draco was staring at the door in shock, and Harry was slowly recovering from his attack. The slim Gryffindor sat up with a moan, rubbing the bump that had formed where the tray had hit him. "Jeez, Malfoy, did you have to hit so hard? I think you knocked my brain loose," he complained, making Draco turn angry eyes on him._

_"IT'S YOUR BLOODY FAULT FOR... FOR..."_

_Harry looked up at him with a smirk. "For what? Being my irresistible self?"_

_Draco's answer surprised him. "YES! It's your bloody fucking fault for daring to EXIST!" The angry Slytherin stalked to the other side of the room and promptly set to cleaning the floor with harsh movements._

_Harry stared after him in disbelief. That was the second time...! "What," he exclaimed, ignoring his headache and standing up as he spoke, "am I not allowed to exist now?!" Unfortunately, he experienced a wild bout of vertigo and fell over. "OW! Shit!"_

_Draco looked over his shoulder and, at the sight of the sprawled Gryffindor on the floor, burst out laughing. He rolled over and sat up, his head falling back as he laughed. "Potter, you're such a – mphrmph!!!" A rag hit him in the face, cutting the insult off. Slowly he peeled the wet cloth off. His eyes were murderous. "Potter..." he growled._

_Harry stuck his tongue out at him. "Serves you right, Malfoy. Don't laugh at me." He turned his back on the Slytherin and began to scrub the floor._

_Suddenly he felt a searing pain on his head as it was yanked back by cruel fingers. He let out a gasp of pain as Draco pulled him to his feet by his hair. His back hit a firm chest, and his other arm was captured by a merciless hand._

_"Do you know," the taller boy growled into his ear, "how very close I am to throwing you on the ground and beating the shit out of you? If Snape wasn't a few rooms away, you'd be black and blue by now, Potter."_

_Harry closed his eyes tightly, his eyebrows knitting in anger. "And do you know," he ground out, "that if it wasn't for your insane habit of wanting to beat the shit out of me, we wouldn't be here? Let me go, asshole."_

_The fingers tightened in his hair briefly before letting go. Harry shook his arm loose and stepped away from the Slytherin. He turned to face Draco to insult him, and he missed the fist heading for his stomach._

_"Augh!" Harry doubled over in pain, as Draco laughed coldly._

_"Never underestimate your enemy, Potter," he said to the crumpled figure, his pale lips curled in a sneer. _

_Harry looked up at him through tearing eyes and black bangs. He fought to regain his breath, and when he felt normal enough, he shifted into another position. "I should say the same..." His leg suddenly shot out, sweeping under Draco's legs and knocking him to the ground. "...to you!" he finished triumphantly._

_Draco growled at him, and Harry pounced. The two fought to get a hold of each other viciously, and after a bit of grappling and Draco biting Harry's hand, Harry emerged victorious. Of course, both boys were too tired to continue their fight, but since Harry happened to be on top, he was announced the winner. The two breathed heavily as they glared at each other, energy zapped from their chase and subsequent fight, not to mention the wrestle-mania they decided to have in the middle of Potions just thirty minutes before._

_Harry was sitting on Draco's stomach, his hands resting on the blond boy's chest. Beneath him, Draco had closed his eyes and was attempting to regain his breath. Harry sent a sour look at him and took his glasses off to rub at his eyes. Merlin, he was tired. The nightmares, though milder than last year's, were taking away from his sleep, since he stayed up during the night so he wouldn't dream. The Occlumency hadn't helped lately, so vivid were the dreams now, but Snape had promised they would start practicing next week. The last Dreamless Sleep Tonic that Madam Pomfrey had given him had made him sick, just like the one before had, and so now he refused to take any potions for sleep control. Thus, he was constantly tired. Combine that with Seamus hitting on him again and all the fighting with a certain Draco Malfoy and you get one unhappy Harry Potter._

On the other hand, _Harry thought absently to himself, _Malfoy's stomach is quite comfortable. _A vaguely familiar feeling swelled up in his stomach, and Harry smirked to himself. _At least my body knows how repulsive Malfoy is.

_Draco breathed out, his eyes opening as he looked up at Harry. The blond was surprised to see the glasses gone, but the green eyes were closed. Draco eyed the rings under Harry's eyes. He was just about to take a closer look when he felt something nudge against his stomach. He directed his gaze to the location, only to find that he was staring at Harry's crotch._

_"..."_

_Harry took no notice of his dilemma. The Gryffindor was putting his glasses back on, completely unaware of the reaction his body had taken at his previous thought. The green eyes opened and glanced down at the dragon beneath him, only to behold the dragon raising an eyebrow._

_"Why, Harry... is that your wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" the Slytherin said slyly, hoping to get a rise out of the Gryffindor._

_Harry's expression turned puzzled and a bit weirded out. "What are you talking about, Malfoy? Snape took our wands, remember? And where do you get off calling me by my first name?"_

_Draco stared. _Don't tell me that he doesn't... _"Potter," he said carefully, "do you have any idea what I meant by 'wand'?"_

_Harry favored him a sardonic look. "Oh, you don't mean those little sticks we use to wield our magic?" he asked sarcastically, mentally equaling Draco as 'loony.'_

He doesn't. _Draco felt strangely disappointed that Harry didn't get the sex joke. "Something like that... although I'm sure that the 'magic' I'm thinking of isn't the same as what you're thinking of..."_

_Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Malfoy."_

_Draco arched an eyebrow. "What about broomstick, then?"_

_Harry stared at him._

_"How about love rod? Boner? Phallus? Prick?!" At Harry's blank look, Draco snapped. "Oh, for crying out loud, Potter! Do you not know what a cock is?!"_

_The blank look continued._

_Draco took a deep breath. "Then let me put this in a term that you will undoubtedly know. 'PENIS.' Do you know what a penis is, Potter?"_

_The green eyes widened almost comically at the word 'penis.' "Pe...__nis__?" the smaller boy asked hesitantly._

_Draco felt like screaming "YES!" to the world. "Yes, Potter, penis. Finally. Now that you finally get it, I will ask you again. Is that your wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"_

_Harry, being the bright boy that he was, took a very long moment to tear his eyes from Draco's and look down. At the sight of Little Harry making an obvious appearance (though incognito), Harry stated, quite intelligently in fact, "Oh, fuck."_

_Draco had to laugh. "Yes, that's exactly what I was thinking, Harry," he purred, lifting a hand to run up Harry's leg. This was a new type of torture, which he enjoyed immensely. He had had no idea that Harry was a virgin._

_Harry shot him a terrified look, and in a flash, the Gryffindor was off Draco and running to the door. Draco watched bemusedly as Harry leaned out into the hallway._

_"**SNAPE**!!!!" _

_Draco's eyes took their turn in widening comically. "Oh, SHIT!" Without another thought he jumped up and rushed out the door past Harry. He ran down the hall as fast as he could, and at Snape's shout, he ran even faster._

_"I'll get you for this, Potter!!" he yelled as he rounded a corner, an angry Severus Snape hot on his heels._

~*~

Harry and Draco were laughing hysterically by the time they had finished recounting that particular detention. They were sitting across from each other in the middle of the room, the last two hand telescopes in their laps and waiting to be cleaned. Everything else in the room was spotless.

Draco calmed down enough to leer at Harry. "I can't believe you didn't know what 'wand' was a euphemism for, Harry."

Harry mock glared at him. "Oh, shut up. It's not my fault nobody ever told me these things."

Draco chuckled over that, and the two went back to cleaning. After a few minutes, Draco casually set his telescope aside and eyed the Gryffindor. "So, Harry..." he began nonchalantly.

Harry looked up at him with an expectant look. "Hmm?"

A rather devious smirk bloomed on Draco's lips. "Is that your wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" he purred.

A rag hit him in the face.

~*~

_To Be Continued..._


	14. The Care of Magical Creatures Cliché Bon...

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 14 : The Care of Magical Creatures Cliché Bonus : The Return of the Canary**

~*~

_"I bet you can't do it."_

_"I bet I can!"_

_"Fine. Go do it."_

_"Now?"_

_"No, you git. Do it at breakfast!"_

_"Fine."_

Seamus muttered to himself as he remembered the conversation he had had with Dean. His best friend had bet him that he couldn't steal a kiss from Harry without Malfoy noticing. Seamus had immediately marched off to prove this, before he'd realized that it was one in the morning and Harry was fast asleep. Normally, even that wouldn't have stopped him, but Dean had pointed out that the kiss had to be at least public.

Unfortunately, he couldn't have done it at breakfast. Just five minutes ago, Harry had rushed in late, grabbed some bacon and had run off before anyone could mutter so much as a "Good morning." So Dean said he could do it at lunch.

An evil idea formed in Seamus' head at that point. Right before breakfast was over, he strolled over to the head table, ignoring the wary looks cast his way as he settled down to talk with an old Gryffindor...

~*~

Harry strode down the corridor with a bounce in his step. Madam Pomfrey had just released him and his classmates from the small Magical Healing class, which had taken place right after breakfast. Until lunch he'd have a free period, then after the midday meal he'd go to Care of Magical Creatures for a couple hours. Harry's mouth turned slightly upwards at this thought, because Slytherins equaled Draco, the thought of whom having always made Harry's skip a beat.

Harry didn't think anyone else he knew had a free period the same time as he did that day, because he knew that Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors (sans Hermione) would be going to Divination now, and Hermione and Draco had Arthrimancy. With a light heart, Harry went to Gryffindor Tower, changed his books, and journeyed to the library to work on homework.

A short while later Harry was sitting at his favorite table in the library. The table, located in the northeastern corner of the huge library, was well known to the library dwellers, mainly studious Ravenclaws and curious Hufflepuffs, because it was Hermione's Table.

Hermione had laid claim to the Table back in her first year, when her thirst for wizardly knowledge first drove her to the many shelves of helpful books. In her many pursuits of information, Hermione often left her books at this particular Table, much to the dismay of a Ravenclaw fifth-year, who had long taken refuge in that corner of the library. However, the Ravenclaw didn't nearly spend as much time in the shelves of books as young Hermione (surprise, surprise), and after a short feud between the two girls, the fifth-year moved to a different table, one more open and friendly to newbie visitors. With the Table won, the other library regulars respected the first-year's claim and left well enough alone. Thanks to a rather scary loss of temper by our favorite prodigy, involving the third-year Hermione and a seventh-year Slytherin (I won't go into detail), the library haunters warned any new seekers of knowledge that that particular Table was Off Limits. Hermione, the courteous soul that she is, returned the favor as often as she could.

Harry was well versed enough in the History of Hermione's Table to know that he wouldn't be disturbed when he was working. Thanks to his occasional appearances with the prodigal Gryffindor to Her Table, he was given leave to use It in Her absence. Ron, who only entered the library by threat of detention with Snape or worse, depending on the mood – either Hermione's or his – did not have this privilege and was only able to partake in the Table when Hermione was around.

A peculiar situation, indeed.

Now, as Harry scanned through his text and scribbled something reminiscent of an essay, he let his eyes wander from his work to the window. Harry, it can be said, fell to some degree of the infamous ADD {1}, as presumed from his many space-outs during Transfiguration and Potions. (Divination and History of Magic were exempt from such a list by default.) Thus, it could not be helped when his eyes moseyed their focus on over to the Window.

Harry had a History with this Window. Back in fourth year, when Ron wasn't speaking to him and he spent much of his time with Hermione, he had had a Moment with the Window.

~*~

_It was a dark Saturday night. While most of the time nights were dark by definition, this night was exceptionally dark, in that there were no stars in sight. You hear that? Noooo staaars. Not one! Not a moon, either! Thus, it was pretty dark that Saturday night._

_Harry Potter was in the library at __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was reading over a text on Summoning Charms – Hermione seemed to think that if he learned the theory, he could perform the spell, a hope that had dimmed drastically after repeated attempts of the act had failed miserably – given to him by said prodigy after she had gone down to fetch a late-night snack. After skimming over the material, Harry deemed the book unnecessary and slammed it shut, a bit louder than he'd meant to._

_The sound echoed through the empty library, making Harry cringe at the endless continuity of slams. With a sigh he sat back, slouched, propped his feet on the table, and leaned the chair back so that he could stare at the ceiling without hurting his neck, never mind the rest of his body. He held a long, profound staring contest with the ceiling, until his watering eyes had to blink and he lost. Harry sighed again._

_This was all Ron's fault. He just _knew_ it. No matter what Hermione said, it was Ron's fault that the entire school hated him, that he couldn't get Summoning Charms right, and especially that Cho had seen him fall asleep in his porridge that morning! If Ron had been paying attention and performing his proper duties as Harry's best friend, Harry would have been saved from his porridge's attempt to become one with him, Cho wouldn't have seen his fall from grace, and the rest of the student body could have enjoyed a nice break in the subsequent food fight that would have occurred no matter what, had Ron followed the rules. Of course, Ron had no intentions whatsoever to do the job right, so Harry had suffered another dosage of humiliation that morning._

_Harry scowled at the ceiling. The ceiling didn't react; whether Harry scowled at it or not, it would continue to be a ceiling. Harry's scowl deepened. This had no effect on the ceiling whatsoever._

_The Gryffindor let out a derisive snort. He swerved forward to sit up, but he jarred his hip as it knocked against the wooden armrest of his chair, the act making him curse and flinch away. After inspecting his wounded hip, he let out an explosive sigh of exasperation and sprawled onto his books. The books let out a protest in the form of a wave of dust, making the green-eyed boy sneeze._

_He groaned softly as the dust cleared away. This was _so_ not his day._

_Something moved, perhaps not even an inch, but it was enough to send Harry's neglected Seeker skills into action. He sat up quickly and turned his body to the side to face the disturbance, only to meet the face of _something_ in the window. _

_The face was pale, the skin around its eyes was shrunken in, and the lips were pinched and curled into a snarl. The eyes were replaced by two shining disks, and a shock of black surrounded the face's almost elfish ears. In reaction, Harry did the most honorable thing he could have done._

_He shrieked._

_He jumped back from the window and knocked his chair over, taking himself with it. In his haste to get away, his head knocked against the floor, giving him momentary dizziness._

_A few minutes later, when his head had cleared, Harry noticed something shining in his eyes. He groaned, feeling through his dark hair to touch the bump he had received gingerly. Slowly he opened his eyes._

_The moon shone down on him, black clouds hiding part of it with silver outlines. Harry blinked. The brilliance of the moon reminded him of the glowing eyes he had seen in the window. Then the moonlight faded, covered again by the dark clouds._

_Suddenly Harry gasped, as a mental brick in the form of realization hit him. The face! The boy scrambled to his knees and peered over the back of the chair, heart thudding in his chest._

_Nothing._

_Harry stared. There was nothing in the window, nothing but inky blackness. Harry sat back on his haunches, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. What had he seen? Was it a Death Eater? Or was it... something else?_

_Something bright suddenly hit his vision, and Harry watched in horror as before his very eyes the face reappeared. Now the thing's mouth was open in a silent scream._

_Harry couldn't move. His heart beat wildly against his ribcage, and his fingers twitched as if wanting to grab something, but Harry was frozen. The thing had him captured in its dark enchantment._

_Harry suddenly felt a deep urge inside him, a compulsion to defeat this thing and protect his school, his home. With a mighty wrench of his head, he broke the spell caused by staring at the creature, and swiftly he stood and brandished his wand at the window._

_A pale hand appeared in the window at the exact same time. It also held a wand, identical to his. Numbly Harry stared at the window._

_It was his reflection._

_After a long moment, nervous laughter bubbled up in his throat, and soon Harry was clutching his sides as he laughed hysterically over his folly. He fell to his knees, snickering madly as he laughed at himself for being so gullible. The terror he had felt moments before faded into embarrassment and relief._

_He grinned to himself, still snickering, and stood to meet his reflection. The monster was now grinning with him, and Harry shook his head. A need to be silly overcame him, and he made a face at himself, sticking out his tongue and waving his fingers. His reflection copied him._

_Harry smiled at himself as he picked up the chair and set it upright. He was way too stressed out. That was why he had done such a stupid thing. The raven-haired boy grinned wryly. He hadn't laughed in weeks, not since his fight with Ron, not since he had been chosen a school Champion. It felt good to laugh again._

_He stepped up to the window and lifted his hand to touch it. The glass was cold. The moon was still out, and Harry smiled up at it tiredly. His eyes returned to his reflection. When he was up close like this, the reflection of light on his glasses disappeared, revealing his startlingly green eyes with their long eyelashes. Harry let his gaze pour over his reflection. He looked tired and pale, but something made him glow even so. Harry's mouth quirked downward. He was so weird._

_Well, might as well be a bit weirder. Harry grinned once before leaning forward and kissing his reflection, his soft mouth pressing slightly against the cold glass. The dark-haired boy pulled back after a moment, snickered at himself, and turned to sit down. {2}_

_A sound alerted him to Hermione's return. _Just in time, too,_ Harry's mind informed him cheerfully. _This means she doesn't have to see how weird you are._ Harry grinned to himself as the brown-haired girl approached. They exchanged glances before getting back to work, now munching on pasties._

_Hermione's keen gaze did not miss the calm, almost happy glow that had enveloped Harry since she had arrived. Her eyes also did not miss the strange imprint of lips on the window, which hadn't been there when she'd left. However, she kept her findings to herself, knowing that even a moment of peace for her best friend was worth all the oddities in the world._

_Harry, for his part, found his concentration slipping after only a few minutes. His eyes wandered to the window, in which he saw his and Hermione's reflections highlighted by the silver moonlight. His mouth quirked again at his previous... 'experience' with the window. He stared into the blackness of the night, his mind going back to the sources of his stress, and scowled._

_This was all Ron's fault._

~*~

Harry grinned at the memory. Ever since that night, he'd tried to keep his stress level down for the rest of the year, and he had done pretty well until the Third Task... He quickly shook himself from the thought of _that_. He wouldn't think of that now. Harry turned back to his essay and began writing with renewed vigor.

A few paragraphs later, he was disturbed from his work by a very faint _tap tap tap._ Harry blinked, looking up from his parchment and glancing around. No one was paying any attention to him, so he shrugged and went back to work.

_Tap tap tap._ The sound came again. Harry looked up again, but nothing seemed out of order, so he owed it to the peculiarity of Hogwarts and dipped his quill into his inkbottle to write again.

_Tap tap tap._

Harry reacted quickly this time, twisting around to face his disturber of peace. He found himself face to face with the Window, and beyond that, a little yellow bird sort of... _beamed_ at him.

Harry freaked out. _"Holy SHIT!"_ he shrieked, jumping away from the window and running into the table. Immediately Madam Ponce shushed him, but he was too shocked to care.

It was_ back_.

The canary _sparkled._ Finally, alone with his love! Tripp sighed happily and perched himself on the windowsill, either not noticing or not caring that a thick pane of glass was between him and his beloved. He began his serenade.

_"Who wears short shorts?"_

Somehow, the sound got through anyway, despite Harry's greatest hopes. The few students that were in the library looked up at the sound, ready to _shh_ at a moment's notice. However, at the sight of Harry Potter being cornered against Hermione's Table by a canary that was _on the other side of the window, they quickly forgot any inclinations to hush the disturbers of peace._

Harry began to sweat. "No, no, no, no," he chanted to himself in a panicked whisper. His hands fumbled for something to hold on and encountered the edge of the Table. Harry grabbed onto the Table with all that he had.

Tripp the canary went on with his song, oblivious to the terror his darling was emitting. _"Harry wears short shorts!"_

Harry nearly fainted. First this stupid canary had tortured him all summer, and _now it was at _school_! Would he ever escape it?_

The canary thought not. _"They're such short shorts,"_ he went on, singing with all of his heart to his dear, dear Harry. 

Harry was _mortified._ "No, not the whole thing, please..." he whispered hopelessly.

_"I like short shorts!"_ Tripp crooned, growing hearts in his eyes.

By now everyone in the library was snickering or at least grinning evilly. Harry gripped the table harder.

_"Who wears short shorts?"_

"No, no, nooooo," moaned Harry.

The canary belted out the finale. _"HARRY WEARS SHORT SHORTS!"_

Harry knew that his face was bright red. With a muffled whimper, he grabbed his books, shoved them in his pack, and _ran for the door. The other library haunters burst out laughing as he bolted through the tall doors and down the hall._

Tripp opened his eyes to find his lovebird missing. The beady black eyes widened comically, and Tripp started after his beloved, only to run smack into the window. He sulked, glared at the glass, which he couldn't see anyway, and flew off to find Harry.

Harry could only think of one thing: _Find Draco. So he ran, searching for his beloved._

Where was that blasted Arithmancy room?!

~*~

Draco sighed. It was nearing the end of Arithmancy, and he was already done with the class work as well as the homework. His partner, Hermione, was also done, and already the Gryffindor was working on her Transfiguration essay. Draco rolled his eyes. Why'd he have to be paired up with _her_ of all people? She always _looked at him, with a capital L, as if she knew everything that was going on in his mind, especially whenever Harry was in his thoughts – which was 92.6% of the time. Therefore, he was on the receiving end of many a Look from the child prodigy. Draco shook his head. Hermione creeped him out sometimes._

(Unbeknownst to our favorite blond Slytherin, Hermione was a master of Looks. Harry and Ron knew this well, for most of the time they were the targets of such Looks. In her years as the boys' best friend, Hermione also acted as mother hen, voice of reason, and surrogate Professor McGonagall. With these rolls came many instances in which Hermione was able to perfect her Looks. She had a Look for several different occasions, and Harry and Ron knew nearly all of these Looks by heart. However, the child prodigy did retain a few secrets, and so every so often she would spring a new Look on her charges, if merely to see the reactions. She was rarely disappointed. Hermione could give even Snape a run for his money with her skills.)

It was then that Draco saw... It. The Slytherin snapped to immediate attention on sighting It; his eyes became more alert, his posture straightened, and his hand went to his pocket. It fluttered in the window of the Arithmancy room, scanning over the crowd, only to have a heartbroken expression dawn on Its feathery face. Because he was mostly hidden by a rather large pile of books, It never recognized him and flew off in another direction, no doubt after his Harry.

Draco didn't realize he was growling until he felt a tap on his arm. The growl died away when he turned to look at whoever wanted his attention and found the entire class staring at him. Being the Master of Coolness that he was, Draco merely raised an eyebrow at them, as if to ask, "What's it to you?" Several students flushed at the dead-sexy look, and nearly all of them looked away.

Except for Hermione.

Draco glared at her, and she stared back. She opened her mouth to speak, but Draco was saved from whatever she would have said by a harsh whisper behind him.

"Draco!" the familiar voice had whispered.

Draco glanced at his teacher, deemed it safe to do whatever, and turned around to stare at Harry. "What the hell are you doing here?!" he asked in a harsh whisper, though suspicions immediately began to form in his mind. Beside him, Hermione had turned around as well, so that she could stare at her best friend.

Harry must have been really out of it, because he didn't even notice Hermione. The young boy, one of the youngest in their class, actually, was peering through the crack created by the slightly ajar door. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were panicked, and his hair was more of a mess than usual. Draco felt immediately sorry for reacting so harshly, but apparently, Harry took no notice of that, either.

"It's back!" the green-eyed boy whispered frightfully.

Draco glanced at his teacher before answering. "What is?"

"IT!!!"

Draco whirled back around when half the class looked in his direction. He stared coolly at them, and though they eyed him warily, the students shrugged and turned back around. Draco sighed in relief, before making sure it was safe again and looking behind him. Harry wasn't visible, but after a few moments, the familiar face appeared in the doorway. Harry looked contrite for causing Draco trouble.

Draco stifled a sigh. "It... as in that blasted bird?" he asked slowly.

Harry nodded quickly.

Draco's eye twitched. "Curses," he muttered, not noticing the raised eyebrows that Hermione was directing at them. "All right. Stay in the hallway. Don't go _anywhere._ When the bell rings, we'll go somewhere and talk."

Harry looked gratefully at him and disappeared into the hallway. Draco turned back around, his expression dark. _Damn that bird._

"What was that about?"

"What?" He was startled by the soft question. He looked at Hermione, who was watching him curiously. He answered in a cold tone. "I'm sorry. Private business."

Hermione's brown eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "If it involves Harry, it concerns me."

Draco sat back in his chair, crossing his arms stubbornly. "You can't make me tell you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll ask Harry, then."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Blasted girl.

~*~

When Draco walked out of the Arithmancy room, he found his boyfriend to be camped out on the floor beside the door. As his curious classmates looked on, Draco hurried over to Harry and knelt before him, picking up his hand and squeezing it. The scene was remarkably touching, but the crowd was gently dispersed by Hermione before they could see more. The noble girl made sure that her classmates had left before turning to look at her best friend and his boyfriend.

Draco was straightening Harry's books and satchel. The younger boy, now standing against the wall, was staring desolately at the opposite wall. Hermione felt her heart go out for her best friend at the look, one she had seen far too many times in the past few years. She walked to Harry and pulled him to her in a sisterly hug, which Harry returned immediately. She laid her chin on his shoulder as he did the same.

"Hermione?" came the soft, muffled voice.

"Hmm?" The brown-eyed girl's voice was gentle, and Harry relaxed under the caring tone.

"I'm in deep shit."

This was not what Hermione had expected to hear. The profanity made her not want to hear it. She pulled back slightly, arms still around her charge, and gave him a Look. Harry grinned innocently at her, and behind him she could see Draco trying not to smile. When the blond caught her eyes, he quickly looked away. Hermione hid her own smile and looked back at Harry.

"Why do you say that, Harry?"

Harry looked at her sadly, as if the world had ended. "I'm being stalked."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Harry, dear, you've always been stalked. I would think that with Colin around, you'd be used to it by now."

Harry shook his head mournfully. "It's worse than Colin. Colin's not in love with me."

Hermione was doubtful of this, but she humored him all the same. "And this new stalker is?"

Harry nodded.

Hermione glanced at Draco before pulling back from Harry more so that they were face to face and Harry couldn't hide in her shoulder. Harry pouted at her, and Hermione laughed. "Oh, sweetheart, don't worry. We can take care of it. Tell me, who is it?"

Red took over Harry's cheeks. "Um..." He slouched a bit, as if to hide.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Harry..." she started warningly.

Her best friend cringed and mumbled something, meeting her eyes embarrassedly.

Hermione gave him a Look when he did.

Harry sulked. "It's a canary," he whispered unhappily.

Hermione stared, Look forgotten.

Harry mentally sighed. _Five... four... three... two... one..._

"WHAT?!"

~*~

After a short explanation, the three met up with Ron in front of the Great Hall for lunch.

Ron wrinkled his nose in Draco's general direction but said nothing of the Slytherin. "What took you?" he asked Hermione and Harry.

Harry flushed, while Hermione giggled. "We'll tell you later, Ron," she quipped, smirking at Harry, who glared at her.

Ron immediately knew it was something worth knowing. "What is it?" he asked out of curiosity.

Harry glared at Hermione again before answering his best mate. "Really stupid, that's what it is. It's horrible. God, it's embarrassing!" He turned on his heel and stalked through the doors, scowl firmly in place. Hermione burst into giggles, while Draco rolled his eyes and Ron stared in confusion.

"What? What'd I say?"

Hermione snickered before tugging Ron down so that she could whisper in his ear. After a few moments, the redhead's blue eyes got impossibly wide.

"You've got to be kidding."

Hermione pulled back and shook her head. "I kid you not, Ron. Harry's being stalked by a ca—"

Almost immediately, Draco's hand clapped over her mouth. "Don't say it out loud," he muttered to her, ignoring the glare Ron cast his way. "Harry would die of humiliation if anyone heard about it."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and waved him away. "Fine, fine, but you have to admit, it is funny."

Draco glared at her. "It is not. It's a highly serious matter. You have no idea what Harry's gotten himself into..." He trailed off, glare redirecting to someone behind the couple. Hermione and Ron turned around to see who it was.

Oliver stood there, a bright grin on his face and a glint in his eye. "Why, hello, Mr. Malfoy! And you, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley. Heading off to lunch?"

Draco's tone was icy enough to freeze the Amazon River. "Yes, we were. Good day to you, Wood." He started for the door, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder, as well as on Ron's.

"Oh, no, you don't," Oliver said, his eyes amused. "I need to talk to you two."

Draco resisted the urge to kill him. Ron eyed the Slytherin dubiously, then bestowed the same suspicion on Oliver.

Oliver grinned, reminded himself that he'd get a reward for this, and leant forward to talk...

~*~

Meanwhile, in the Great Hall, Harry was being kissed.

It was more of an I-really-want-to-shag-you!Kiss than an I've-got-a-crush-on-you!Kiss, but it definitely bordered on being an I'm-doing-this-on-a-dare-but-even-so-I-am-really-enjoying-it!Kiss.

He had no idea what had spawned Seamus into attacking him like this, but for some reason, the moment he had sat down next to him, the Irish boy had latched onto his mouth much like a barnacle to a ship. Harry had shouted in surprise, but it was quickly swallowed by Seamus' tongue, which wriggled its way into his mouth the moment he opened it.

They fell to the floor, Seamus landing on top of Harry, amidst the gasps and cheers. Harry did not return the kiss; instead, he struggled against the sandy-haired boy's hands, which had taken hold of his wrists. He twisted his hands around in the other boy's grip and dug his nails into the skin he found. Seamus yelped and pulled back, and Harry chose that moment to shove Seamus off him.

He scrambled up and attempted to run, but his legs were seized by the fervent and apparently sex-crazed Gryffindor. With a cry, he fell down again.

Seamus started to climb up him. Harry yelped and tried to push him away. "NO, Seamus! No – bad – get down – SEAMUS! Get off! Now! – No, don't touch tha—AHH! SEAMUS!" When the other boy's hand strayed to his bum, Harry started kicking. After only three kicks (with a punch thrown into the mix), Seamus fell away from him, and Harry took the opportunity to run.

He reached the doors in mere moments, but as he was about to pull them open, his wrists were grabbed and he was turned around and pressed into the door.

Seamus loomed over him, a brightness in the hazel eyes that made Harry blanch. "Now, Seamus..." he began nervously.

Seamus grinned widely. "Now, Harry," he mimicked softly. "Love, you know that I couldn't let you get away with dating Malfoy before I gave you a good-bye kiss, don't you?" He pressed against the smaller boy, ignoring the hundreds of pairs of eyes on him and his prey.

Harry squirmed. "Seamus, I thought we talked about this! You said –"

Whatever Seamus had said was never revealed, because at that moment Seamus pressed his lips enthusiastically against Harry's. Harry squealed and tried to push him off, but to no avail. The Irish boy was like a leech.

Suddenly, the other door swung open, and through the doorway walked four people. Harry's heart leapt in hope as they turned to the pair in surprise.

Three pairs widened in shock, while a stormy grey pair narrowed in anger.

"FINNIGAN!"

Seamus let go of Harry as quick as lightning. He sent a suggestive grin at the shocked boy and bounded away, Draco in hot pursuit. Harry slid to the ground in gratitude, his chest heaving as he took great gulps of hair. Ron was immediately at his side, while Hermione turned to Look at Oliver, who grinned nervously.

The students were in an uproar, nearly all of them laughing loudly as Draco chased Seamus around the tables. The teachers tried without success to calm the tables, but the students were too enamored with the Great Chase.

Seamus flew past the group at the door and up the stairs. Draco slid into the hallway after him, and without a moment's hesitation, the Slytherin whipped out his wand and sent a curse at the boy. Seamus was hit, and at the top of the stairs, the sandy-haired boy fell onto the landing in a fit of giggles, completely disarmed by the Tickling Charm.

Draco started up after him, but a pair of arms locked under his and pulled him back. He recognized the freckles immediately and struggled against Ron's grip.

"Let me GO, Weasley! I'll kill him!"

Ron shook his head. "No. I'll take care of him. You see to Harry."

The word "Harry" had a magical effect on Draco. He stopped struggling, his breathing started to return to normal, and the murderous look faded. When Ron was sure that the blond wouldn't run, he let go. Draco held true and didn't run, instead pushing Ron aside and stalking into the Great Hall. He strode over to Harry, knelt down, and lifted the slighter boy into his arms. Harry didn't protest. The slim blond then turned and sent a withering glare at his table.

The Slytherins blanched, and some actually *whimpered* as they cleared two spaces for their unspoken leader and his precious bundle. Draco walked to the table and set Harry down next to Blaise, then dropped into the second spot, between Harry and Pansy. No Slytherin dared to protest the seating arrangement, as Draco began filling his and Harry's plates with a well-balanced meal.

Hermione, satisfied that Harry was out of danger (a slightly ironic statement, as Harry Potter was sitting at the Slytherin table...), grabbed Oliver and hauled him out the door. Ron was waiting for her outside the Great Hall, one hand binding Seamus' and the other fingering his wand. Oliver and Seamus met each other's eyes, and both cringed.

They were about to face the wrath of Ron and Hermione.

Ron and Hermione exchanged looks, and then Looks, as twin grins of wickedness bloomed on their lips.

Seamus and Oliver shuddered in fear.

The Best Friends of Harry Potter dragg—I mean, escorted the two mischief-makers to an empty classroom. Once inside, the door closed and Ron placed in front of it, they released their pris—I mean, friends. Seamus pouted at Hermione, but the Head Girl paid no attention to him. Oliver sighed and looked at their captors.

"It was all his fault!" he cried, pointing a finger at Seamus. The Irish boy squawked in indignation at that.

"MY fault?! Oh, NO, it isn't MY fault, it's DEAN'S! He's the one who dared me!"

"Well, now I'm in trouble for your little shenanigan! Why isn't DEAN here instead of me?!"

Seamus sniffed, crossing his arms. "Because you were a willing accomplice."

Oliver stared at him. "You... you... traitor!!" he sputtered, advancing on the sandy-haired boy.

Seamus leapt behind Hermione. "Save me!" he wailed, clinging to her, a lot tighter than was strictly necessary.

Hermione merely lifted an eyebrow in response to the hazel-eyed boy's words. Seamus whimpered for effect.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Oliver. Seamus. Sit down. _Now," he ordered in a firm, authoritative tone of voice. Ron wasn't captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team for nothing._

The two idiots in question froze at the command. Quickly and obediently, they scurried to a couple of stools and faced the couple. They folded their hands in their laps and lowered their heads in pretend penitence.

Ron stepped up to stand beside Hermione. Both wore cold, emotionless masks, though their eyes flared with hot emotion. Hermione took her wand from her pocket in an elegant move, and the two troublemakers eyed it with apprehension.

Hermione's soft, deadly voice broke the silence, startling Seamus and Oliver. "Do you honestly think that you're helping Harry with your little pranks? Did it ever occur to you that Harry is having enough trouble with his life without your childish objections to his relationship with Draco Malfoy?"

"Whether you like it or not," Ron continued, his voice dropping to a cold tone, "Harry is with Malfoy. He's in love with Malfoy, and Malfoy is in love with him. This is perhaps one of the first chances in months, even years of Harry being happy. Malfoy makes him happy. Do you really want to hurt him by refusing his love for Malfoy?"

"Harry needs Draco," Hermione stated firmly. "Draco can guarantee Harry the happiness that he was denied ever since the Dark Lord rose to power. We, as his housemates, could not give him this happiness. Draco Malfoy can."

Ron closed his eyes, his expression serious. "If you care about Harry at all, you will leave him alone. Let him be happy with Malfoy. Malfoy can give Harry the love that the Muggles never cared to have." The blue eyes slid open, the color startling in its intensity. "If you bother Harry or Malfoy again about their relationship, or try to break them up, or even _touch_ Harry in a manner that is not strictly platonic, I will kill you," he promised, his face darkening with anger.

Seamus and Oliver gulped.

Hermione's brown eyes were cool, but satisfied. "You will go to Harry the moment we go back to lunch and apologize. You will inform Dean that he will apologize to Harry as well. Is this clear?"

Seamus and Oliver nodded, each vowing to himself _never to hurt Harry again. Hermione exchanged glances with Ron before both stepped forward, wands rising._

Seamus and Oliver never stood a chance.

~*~

Harry was carrying a rousing conversation about Quidditch with Blaise and a few other Slytherins when the doors to the Great Hall opened. A hush fell over the student body, as two people stepped into the room. At the sight of the two intruders, a gasp echoed throughout the hall.

A zealous Gryffindor to the max, the lovely Oliver Wood, with the voice that has been known to make girls swoon at the mere thought of it, wore a deep green shirt with silver lettering and khaki pants. On the front of the shirt it read as follows:

_"I love snakes and Potions and everything green."_

Ron, who stood beside Oliver, tapped the man on the shoulder. Oliver scowled at him, earning a grin in return, and grudgingly turned around. A giggle fit immediately befell most of the students, for the lettering read:

_"Because I'm a closet Slytherin fan!"_

Several Slytherins let out whoops of appreciation at the message. Oliver sighed and sent a pained look at Ron. He shook his head, smirking. They both turned to the side, as the doors opened again, allowing their companions to enter.

All giggles immediately gave way to shrieks of shock and delight. For there stood Seamus Finnigan, decked out in what appeared to be a full, _extremely_ masculine feline outfit. From the white cat ears peeking out of his hair to the white paws that replaced his feet, Seamus completed every definition of the phrase "Sex Kitten." White paws, a long white tail, and even realistic whiskers! His skin was the same color, except where it faded to white on his ankles and wrists, as well as just above his behind (but we can't see that ^~). The boy was clad in all black: tight black pants, an even tighter black shirt, even a black leather collar on which a golden bell hung. Finally, in attribution to his Gryffindor loyalties, a red bow lay wrapped around the end of the human-feline's tail. {3}

Hermione, extremely satisfied with her work, stepped back to allow the room to view the gorgeous Gryffindor. While the student body thought it was a clever, skillfully applied outfit, paws and all, Hermione knew that Seamus, at the moment, actually _was part cat. She had spelled him so._

Last year, just before the term ended, she had researched the _Animagus_ spell and other human-to-animal and animal-to-human spells. The information had delighted and mystified her, and, emboldened, she had begun to play around with the magic composition of a few of the spells, just to see how each part worked. When she had done so, she rebuilt the components to produce entirely new theoretical spells.

One day, when the library was empty save her and Harry, she had completely by accident let loose one of her theoretical spell variants, and it had hit Harry. The poor boy was turned into a human-feline mix, almost exactly as Seamus was now, only with black fur. After the boy's panic had faded away to shock and curiosity (which took a long time, as it's not every day that you turn into a cat humanoid), the two had rushed to Dumbledore. Hermione explained the mechanics of her wayward spell to the Headmaster, while the feline Harry amused himself with flicking his tail across his ankles. After a few (extremely long) moments of thought, Dumbledore had asked Hermione to perform the theoretical counter-spell. With a gulp, the child prodigy did so. Poof! Harry was back to normal. Hermione is a perfectionist, after all.

Harry and Hermione were let off with a mild warning to be careful of their magic, and Hermione was asked to send in a letter detailing her new spells to the Ministry of Magic. Over the summer, the Ministry tested the spells and deemed them successful, and Hermione was given due credit for her discoveries. They called the first the_ Transmutus Charm._ {4}

Yes, Hermione had turned Seamus into part-human, part-cat. She was rather proud of herself, because she hadn't gotten to dress Harry up when he was a cat. Maybe later this year...

Seamus, for his part, was Not Happy. He felt _weird. His back felt weird, his hands and feet felt weird, his _head_ felt weird! And for some strange reason, he _really_ wanted to curl up into a ball to sleep and purr. Not that he couldn't already purr, but he usually didn't do it while __snoozing. He death-glared at the student body, but by doing this he only succeeded in making himself look cuter. The Irish cat-boy felt his eye twitch at the appreciative moan that the collective masses uttered._

This was _so_ not fair.

With a hiss in the student body's general direction, he stalked to the Gryffindor table, grabbed Dean, and yanked him over to where Oliver and the others were. Oliver was moving before Seamus could growl at him, and so the Irish cat-boy merely directed his bemused best friend to where Harry and Draco sat.

Harry was staring at Oliver and Seamus in pure unadulterated shock. Draco was in hysterics; the normally cool and reserved Head Boy was now bowed over his plate, laughing as if the world was about to end. The rest of the Slytherins, save Blaise, were staring at Seamus in shock, amusement, and pure adulterated desire. Blaise himself was turned to face the three visitors, but his expression was so blank of emotion that one could have mistaken him for a Greek statue.

Seamus scowled at the Slytherins before looking at Harry, whose mouth was starting to twitch in an effort to hide a smile. "Harry, I'm sorry that I kissed you, and I promise to leave you alone. You have my approval of dating Malfoy." After a couple of well-placed elbow jabs, the two Gryffindors on either side of him nodded and made appropriate agreeing sounds.

Harry's mouth dropped open again, and Draco's snickering faded enough for him to look at Seamus without bursting into wild laughter.

"You mean that, Finnigan?" he asked with barely concealed humor. (In fact, the humor was boasting a huge flag-waving spectacle atop Draco's head, complete with streamers, fireworks, and whistles galore. And that was humor held back.)

Seamus nodded. His whiskers twitched.

Draco erupted into laughter again.

Harry rolled his eyes and smiled up at Seamus. "Ignore him. Thank you, Seamus, and I forgive you. Just don't do it again."

Seamus shuddered at the thought of Sirius Black, Hermione, the entire Weasley clan, and Draco all coming after him for daring to kiss Harry, as promised by one Ron Weasley. "I won't. I swear it."

Harry grinned. He leaned forward and put a comforting hand on Seamus' arm. "If it helps," he said, lowering his voice, "I know exactly how you feel right now."

Seamus' eyes widened slightly as he pondered the exact meaning of those words, while on either side of Harry, Draco and Blaise's jaws dropped.

Harry blinked at the reactions he caused. Expectedly, he flushed. "I meant about the cat thing," he muttered. Understanding dawned on the three boys' faces.

Draco grinned, making a mental note to wrestle that story out of his angel later. "Would you like to join us, Finnigan?" he offered slyly, as the other Slytherins grinned predatorily. "We would love to share our table with you." Of course, what Draco wanted to do was point and laugh at Seamus for the rest of lunch. The rest of the Slytherins wanted something quite different...

Seamus rolled his eyes. "No, thanks. I don't need you laughing at me for the rest of lunch, Malfoy."

Draco pouted when his plan was revealed. "You ruin all my fun, Finnigan," he said sulkily. Beside him, Harry snickered.

Seamus' tail twitched. "Whatever. I have to go plot against a certain Head Girl now, if you'll excuse me." He turned and stalked away, taking Dean with him. Oliver followed at a more leisure pace, heading for the Head Table, and once the two students had joined up with Ron and Hermione, the four walked to the Gryffindor table.

Harry grinned widely. "Have fun!" he called, waving after the four. Seamus half-heartedly lifted a hand in a backwards wave before pouncing on Hermione (almost literally). Harry smirked and turned to face the table. As he reached for a roll, he noticed Blaise's hands clenched into fists at his sides. {5} He hid a smile and turned to talk to Draco.

~*~

Right before lunch ended, Seamus quickly ran to the Head Table, again ignoring the wary looks cast his way by most of the faculty. Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled at him from behind half-moon glasses.

"Yes, Mr. Finnigan?"

Seamus put on his best pout. "Headmaster, can I _please get this curse taken off? It __itches! In __all the wrong places!"_

Dumbledore smiled, apparently not noticing the way that Blaise Zabini, who was passing by, stiffened at the hazel-eyed boy's words. "I'm sorry, Seamus, but I'm afraid that only the person who cast the spell on you can take it off before its allotted time is up. Do you remember how much time Ms. Granger stated when she cast the spell?"

Seamus, though amazed at how the Headmaster knew that this was Hermione's doing, couldn't keep the disappointment off his face. "Five hours, sir."

Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Then I suppose you'll have to put up with this form until classes are over," he said, the twinkle in his eyes growing with his amusement. "Will this hurt your studies?"

Seamus glanced down at himself. "Well... no, not really. I guess not, anyway."

Dumbledore smiled. "Then go on to class, Seamus."

Seamus turned to go, but was stopped by Professor Lupin's voice. "While you're at it, Mr. Finnigan, could you go change back into your school robes? I daresay that we don't need the other half of the students fainting from your current attire," the amused werewolf said calmly.

Seamus blinked in confusion and looked behind him. Indeed, most of the girls (and many of the boys) were swooning from the sight of Seamus bending over the Head Table. He grinned and saluted the DADA professor before marching off to Gryffindor Tower.

~*~

Five minutes of Care of Magical Creatures had already passed, and Hagrid was nowhere in sight. The Slytherins and Gryffindors shifted from foot to foot, each wondering where the half-giant was. While the Gryffindors were honestly concerned, the Slytherins just wanted to know if they could skip or not.

Under the shade of a tree at the edge of the area, Harry and Draco were sharing some 'quality time'; that is, they were kissing madly as if they would never see each other again. Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Blaise all stood by, eyeing the couple with either distaste, amusement, or awe (in this case, Neville).

Seamus, who was still in cat-boy form and was seriously thinking about climbing the tree and going to sleep, tilted his head toward Blaise. He was back in school robes, but he, like most of his classmates, had taken off his black robe and thrown it aside for now, as it was rather warm out. His pants were cut with a hole so that his new tail could move about freely. "How long d'ya think it's been since they've breathed?" he whispered, a grin on his lips.

Blaise snorted, and the tall boy turned his gaze from the distant Forest to the Irish cat-boy beside him. "It's been exactly three minutes and forty-seven seconds, Finnigan. I'd say that beats their last time, wouldn't you?"

Seamus smirked. "Considering their last time was only two minutes and twelve seconds, aye."

A throat cleared beside them, and Seamus jumped at the sound. He grinned mischievously as Ron crossed his arms and glared at them.

"Hello, Ronniekins! Come to give me a kiss?"

"Hell no."

"Damn. Guess I'll have to settle for Blaise, then."

Blaise immediately stepped away from the sandy-haired cat-boy. "I don't think so, Finnigan."

Ignoring Ron's smirk, Seamus turned and pouted up at the dark Slytherin. "Awww, but Blaisiiiieee, doncha wanna kiss meee?" he crooned, clasping his hands under his chin and batting his eyelashes.

Blaise, to his credit, didn't blush. Instead, the tall Slytherin belatedly hid a smile, one that Seamus didn't miss. "Not in front of all these people," he stated loftily. Seamus' cat ears perked up.

"Really? So if I put everyone to sleep you'll kiss me?"

"Well –"

"Then let's get going!" the Irish boy roared, brandishing his wand and lifting it for a spell. However, he didn't account for Ron grabbing the wand out of his hand and hiding it. With no wand and no kiss from Blaise, Seamus sniffled.

"I wanted a kiss..."

Ron threw his hands up in the air. "Damn it, somebody kiss him before I kill him!" the redhead bellowed, causing the entire class to look their way. Kitty Seamus pouted at his classmates.

Several started forward to fulfill the lovely Irishman's wish, but they stopped in their tracks with a sad moan when Blaise turned Seamus toward him and...

...kissed him on the cheek.

Seamus stared up at Blaise in shock. The taller boy's face was emotionless as he started to pull away, and Seamus' eyes narrowed. "Oh, hell no! You are NOT getting away from me!" he cried out. He threw himself at Blaise, wrapped his arms around his neck, and kissed him with all that he was.

There was absolutely nothing that Blaise could do about it.

At that moment, Harry and Draco chose to break for air. (Yes, they have been kissing this entire time.) Having missed the commotion involving Seamus and Blaise, they gazed into each other's eyes, breathing heavily.

"Draco," Harry whispered, nibbling on Draco's bottom lip.

"Harry," Draco sighed, pulling Harry tighter to him.

A deep clearing of a throat broke their little fantasy world. The two boys looked up in bemusement at the large form that stood beside the tree.

Hagrid beamed at them. "As much as I like seeing young'uns sharin' their love, I really need ta ask ya to stop, 'Arry, Malfoy."

Harry turned bright red, while a dim flush of ice pink touched Draco's cheeks. The two drew apart, though their hands quickly found each other. Hagrid smiled at them before looking at the other kissing couple.

It seemed Seamus and Blaise were really getting into their kiss, for their hands were starting roam and Seamus' tail had wrapped around Blaise's thigh. Hagrid cleared his throat again.

It didn't work.

The half-giant sighed and started forward, but was stopped by Harry's voice. "Let me, Hagrid."

Hagrid eyed him for a moment before shrugging. "Suit yerself. The rest a'ya, come on over to the crates, I got somethin' ta show ya'll."

Everybody but Harry, Draco, and the kissing pair followed the great man. Harry and Draco exchanged grins and started forward. Draco stopped when Harry extended an arm, and the smaller boy crept forward with a look of devious glee on his face. He reached forward to grab Seamus' tail...

And pulled.

The entire class looked up as a scream that was decidedly *not* human echoed through the clearing. Immediately their eyes focused on the four under the tree.

Harry was bent over laughing, while Draco was leaning against the tree smirking and trying _not_ to laugh – well, not too much, anyway. Blaise was blinking in bewilderment, for Seamus was completely attached to him – long legs fastened to his hips, arms squeezing his neck, putting his cheek right next to the Irish boy's. Said kitten was shivering, though in pain or in something else, no one could tell.

It was, in fact, in reaction to an extreme overdose of sensation. How Hermione figured this to be, we don't know, but apparently the tail base of a humanoid under her spell was very sensitive, and when touched the right way can cause a major... overload of feeling, e.g. an orgasm or a faint. (This was not such a case, though it was very close.) 

Harry had learned this the hard way, and no, we will NOT go into detail. The point was that he knew how stimulating the tail base could be, so he decided to pull the trick on Seamus. Out of mercy, the raven-haired boy had pulled lightly enough not to cause Seamus to go comatose, spasms included.

Thus, Seamus had screamed like a banshee and glomped onto Blaise. Now, without thinking about it, Blaise wrapped his arms around the shivering Irishman, not only to hold him up but also to comfort him.

After a few minutes, during which the class turned back to listen to whatever Hagrid was saying, Seamus had calmed down enough to turn and glare at Harry.

"I-I'll g-get y-y-youuu, P-p-p-potter!!"

Harry only giggled madly in response.

A short while later, Ron and Hermione returned to them, each holding something in their hand. Harry, who by that time had stopped laughing, blinked at them in curiosity.

"What's that?"

Hermione smiled. Harry started, because it was _not a friendly smile. It was more of an I'm-thinking-such-evil-thoughts-right-now smile. Harry began inching towards Draco, as the brown-haired girl opened her hand._

Harry and Draco's eyes nearly popped out of their heads. Twin looks of horror dawned on their faces, and the two boys grabbed each other and backed away quickly.

It was the canary!

Hermione, seeing their expressions, burst into laughter. "Oh, Harry! Don't worry! It's not your canary friend! It's a wuffpuff."

Harry stole another glance at the evil canary-like creature. Upon closer examination, he found that it indeed wasn't the canary. He eyed Hermione with distrust. "What's a wuffpuff?"

Hermione immediately launched into I-swallowed-the-textbook mode. "A wuffpuff is a small bird-like creature normally found in southern Europe, North America, and central Asia. Wuffpuffs are usually kept as pets for small children, for they will speak to children and tell them about the world. Wuffpuffs never lie and are generally sweet and docile creatures, except in the presence of cats or ferrets. {6} Eighty-six percent of all wuffpuffs are yellow, twelve percent are bright green, and two percent are blue. They eat –"

Harry interrupted before Hermione could start on eating, mating, and reproducing habits, as she was prone to do in her reports. "Yes, thank you, Hermione. That's great."

Hermione rolled her eyes but humored him anyway. "Anyway, Hagrid gave each of us one to take care of until the end of class. Both of you go get one. You, too, Seamus, Blaise."

Harry and Draco exchanged long-suffering glances before starting for the crates, where Hagrid was talking to a student about wuffpuffs and their mating habits. Seamus and Blaise looked at each other for a long moment before Seamus grinned and Blaise arched an eyebrow. The Irish cat-boy leaned forward and whispered something into Blaise's ear, before jumping off the tall, dark, and extremely handsome Slytherin to follow Harry and Draco.

Blaise stared after him, arms automatically crossing, while his eyes had widened ever so slightly.

_"I liked that. We'll have to do it again sometime."_

~*~

What Harry, Draco, and Hagrid's seventh-year Care of Magical Creatures Class (Slytherin and Gryffindor) didn't realize was that a new player was about to join their game.

Tripp fluttered from window to window, searching fruitlessly for his lost beloved. He had no success, and it was with a heavy peanut-seized heart that Tripp flew down to the open grasses located next to that large creature's cabin. He landed on top of a fence that was located next to where the large creature was holding a class. His beady eyes roamed over the students hopefully, but he didn't find his beloved.

Suddenly, everything went dark, as a great hand enclosed around him and picked him up.

"What're you doin' there, little fella? You should be in the crates, waiting for me students to pick ya up! Good thing I found you, there're only three left."

Tripp blinked rapidly as he was carried over to a large crate and deposited in a nest of birds that looked just like him. As the half-giant walked away, Tripp eyed his fellow prisoners. The wuffpuffs stared back at him. Tripp edged away from them.

A shadow fell over them then, and Tripp looked up into the bright green eyes of his beloved Harry. He nearly swooned at the proximity of his dear little lovebird, but bravely he held his ground, standing proudly for his love and all others to see.

~*~

Harry eyed the wuffpuffs with trepidation. Draco, sensing his distress, squeezed the smaller boy's hand.

"Don't worry," he whispered to Harry, lips touching his ear. "They're not it. That bird isn't here. You're safe, love."

Harry smiled briefly at him. "I know, Drac... but thanks." Looking back at the wuffpuffs, Harry reached down and picked one up. Draco followed his example, and both started back to the tree.

~*~

Tripp's beak dropped open. Harry hadn't chosen him! Tears began to fill the bird's eyes, but he quickly shook them away. No. He wouldn't cry. Harry just didn't recognize him, that's all.

No, wait.

Tripp thought back to when Harry had appeared. Someone had been with him... someone who touched HIS love and whispered to him in low tones.

A building-block-sized brick of Realization hit Tripp in the head. It was that blond! That evil blond who nearly seduced his beloved and tried to kill him!

Tripp bristled with hate. That... _monster, who had stolen his beloved, would pay. On Tripp's grave would he pay!_

Before he could go exact revenge on Draco, Tripp was seized by a slim hand and held carefully. He was lifted to eye-level with an Irish-looking bloke that had cat ears and small fangs. Tripp glanced around him and belatedly noticed the claws that extended from the bloke's fingers.

Oh. Crap.

CAT!

Tripp squawked and tried to escape, but the cat-boy held firm. After a great battle of strengths, the canary sagged in defeat. It could not escape the cat.

So it played dead.

~*~

Seamus stared at his canary, while ignoring the urge to eat it. Damn cat instincts. "Say, Blaise, wouldja say it looks... dead?"

Blaise glanced from his own wuffpuff to the yellow thing in Seamus' hand. "...Possibly. What did you do to it?"

Seamus looked affronted. "I didn't do anything to it! All I did was pick it up and it had a seizure and died!"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Finnigan, did you forget that you're still a cat?"

Said cat-boy blinked. "I am? Oh, yeah. Guess I forgot." Ignoring Blaise's sigh, the kittenish Seamus scurried to Hagrid.

"Hagrid, I think my wuffpuff is dead." Hagrid gently took the yellow bird from Seamus. He examined the bird at length, before coming to a conclusion.

"Nah, it's jus' playin'. Hates cats, remember? Besides, this isn't a wuffpuff. It's a canary. A Muggle creature."

Seamus' hazel eyes widened, looking greenish with his cat features. "Really? A real Muggle bird?"

Hagrid nodded. "Yup. Oi, ev'ryone! C'mere! Seamus's got a canary!"

Under the tree, Harry and Draco froze. They took one look at each other before simultaneously nodding, grabbing their robes, and bolting in the opposite direction. Nobody noticed but Tripp.

Tripp had peeked opened one eye to see if it was safe (Having tuned out the conversation Seamus and Hagrid were carrying over him, he wouldn't know that he was about to be presented to the class.) only to discover that monster kidnapping his beloved. With a self-righteous squawk, the canary squirmed free of Hagrid's hand and flew after the fleeing Draco and Harry, who, at hearing the bird, only ran faster.

Thus started Another Great Chase. To give you a basic gist of the Chase without having to prolong the chapter by another few pages, here's how it went:

Up the lawn, into the castle, through the Great Hall, around Professor McGonagall, chasing after them, back out into the front hall, up the stairs, down a corridor, up a hallway, around a corner, past a naked Oliver who quickly ducked into his room to change and then give chase as well, through a hidden passageway, down to the dungeons, over Snape's desk, under Snape's legs, around a boiling cauldron, out of the dungeons with a rabid Snape on their heels, up to the North Tower, through the Divination room with a nod to Professor Trelawney who deigned to faint, out of the Tower, down to the front hall, out the doors, down the lawn, and to Hagrid, where they dove behind the half-giant to hide.

Tripp, Oliver, and Snape all skidded to a stop just before knocking into Hagrid. Said half-giant stared down at the line of... folks... who were chasing his students.

Raising a bushy eyebrow at them, "Can I help you?"

The canary immediately started chirping at Hagrid, and that translated roughly into:

"The evil Monster has taken control of my Honeybird's mind and he kidnapped my Honeybird! Tell him to give it back!"

Hagrid listened to the bird with a compassionate ear. He shook his head when Tripp was through. "No, Tripp, you have it wrong. 'Arry and Malfoy are in love, as crazy as that is. Malfoy hasn't taken control of Harry's mind."

Tripp sulked. "Chirp," he muttered. [Has too.]

Hagrid sighed. "He has not. Now leave 'em alone. Harry isn't yours."

This sparked Tripp's temper. "Chirp CHIRP! Chirpity chirp, chirp chirp chirp! Chirp!!!" he cried out passionately, before jumping into the air and flying off into the sky. [He is TOO! That monster stole him, I saw him first! Harry's mine!!!]

Hagrid rolled his eyes. "Kids," he muttered, before turning to beam at Draco and Harry. "Don't you two worry now. That canary won't be bothering you from now on."

Harry and Draco met each other's eyes. Without even speaking, they agreed completely.

Hagrid was _so_ wrong.

~*~

As the class calmed down and the group of friends sat down under the tree again, nobody seemed to notice Seamus' tail rewrap itself around Blaise's thigh.

~*~

_To Be Continued..._

{1} ADD stands for Attention Deficit Disorder. [For more information on the disorder, see .] Harry may or may not be an ADHD kid, because it's never clearly shown in the books. Certain circumstances lead me to believe that he has at least a small degree of it, if not the full-blown effects. He may just be a space cadet, but then again... ^_^. Besides, if he isn't, we'll just call it artistic license.

{2} When I first wrote about Harry kissing his reflection, the act had no significance whatsoever, except that I thought it'd be cute. Yet when I read the scene over, I find myself moved, somehow. Harry is not a vain creature, quite the opposite in fact; he's extremely insecure when it comes to how people view him, and for one thing he never really liked his looks. However, he knows his body, and as such, he trusts it explicitly. It's possible that when he kisses his reflection here, he's actually accepting the person he's becoming; he's showing that he loves himself regardless of whom he may turn into as well as of whom he was before maturing. It's also possible that this is the first real hint of Harry being gay. I have no idea *how,* but that was the first thought I had when reading it over. Hmm... *makes a mental note to consult a psychology book in the near-future.* Please note that Harry kissing his reflection does _not happen in the book, but it'd be nifty if it did. ^_^. Nor does the entire flashblack-library-scene, but because of the setting, it's very possible that it could have. ^_^._

{3} mmm... Seamus Sex Kitten... I'll bet Blaise'll be happy.

{4} My own spell! ^_^ I'm so proud. This little charm is my own invention, the Latin researched extensively by moi. If you want to use it, go ahead, but please credit me. ^^. Now, the whole idea of turning Seamus into part-cat evolved from the cattail that Harry got in Morien Alexander's _Stop Breathing on Me!, which I really need to bookmark as I can never remember its name. *sweatdrop*_

{5} What did I tell you? *pokes Blaisie-chan*

{6} You think I'm trying to tell you something?


	15. The Good Old Detention Cliché, Take 3

**Author's Notes **: Merry Christmas! No, I am not dead, and this in fact a new chapter. Cheers! ^_^

Some of you may have noticed that all of the chapters up to now have lost their Author's Notes. This is because of a very good reason. The reason: I have a new beta! Her name is Humaira, and she's absolutely wonderful! All cheer for her! (Resounding "Yay.") You see, after the chapters were beta-ed, I uploaded them without the Author's Notes, just because. If anyone is bothered by this, I'm sorry.

Big thanks to **Humaira**, my faithful beta. May she stick with me throughout the entire story! ^_^

Excuse the teensy weensy bit of Blaise/Harry-ness in here. I luuurve that pairing. I want more stories about it. (hint, hint. wink, wink. nudge, nudge. ahem.)

**Important **: In case you never read the notice, we have a mailing list of sorts now. Since FF.net is mean and I'm too lazy to type the link out with spaces, go to Yahoo! Groups and search for the group, "**The TAAM Mailing List**," for that is our name. (Or stalk my author page some more.) Alerts on updates will be sent out from here so that you DON'T have to stalk my author page anymore. You can also discuss TAAM (heaven forbid) here. Join! Join now!!! Or be a stalker. I don't care. _(Additional Note: If you join but don't want to receive emails with all the messages, at least specify "Special Notices," because alerts on new chapters will be made as special notices. Thank you!)_

**Warning: To understand one of the jokes in this chapter, one must have seen _Pirates of the _****_Caribbean_****_._ This is not a required viewing, as the authoress does not expect the uneducated reader to run to the movie store upon reading this warning, but it is recommended (for more reasons than just the stated).**

**Also, take note of the following equation: Harry + Concentrated Sugar = ?. The answer will be found somewhere in this chapter.**

  __

~*~

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 15 : The Good Old Detention Cliché, Take 3**

~*~

It was a dark and stormy night in Gryffindor Tower.

Actually, it was a sunny Friday afternoon in the dungeons. It _seemed_ like a dark and stormy night in Gryffindor Tower, because being in the highest tower of the castle in the middle of a nasty storm was a very scary thing. So was Potions when Snape was pissy. Much of the school, especially the Gryffindors, believed that there should be a universal warning for when Snape was in a bad mood, like those severe storm alerts Muggles had. Some forewarning would be nice...

In the dungeons, the students were working diligently on their potions. Well, the students were _trying_ to work on their potions; if they weren't dicing, peeling, or stirring, they were staring at either Seamus Finnigan or Harry Potter, whose delectable bodies were located at the front of the class. Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter's infamous boyfriend, was spending half his stirring time glaring pure death at those who looked at Harry. Seamus Finnigan had no such protector (not that he wanted one). He actually reveled in the attention, constantly stretching and bending over his table to grin at Snape, who glared at him from behind a stack of papers, as much as he could.

Now, Seamus and Harry had a very good reason as to why they were of such great levels of attention today. Oh, yes. You see, the night before, Harry and Seamus had been playing a rousing game of Truth or Dare. Seamus had gotten a wicked idea for a dare, involving the lack of robes and some very tight pants. Unfortunately, it was at one in the morning in the broom shed by the Quidditch field, so no one could make fun of them for it. 

Pardon? Why were Harry and Seamus playing a game of Truth or Dare at one in the morning in the broom shed by the Quidditch field, you ask? Well...

It's a bit of a long story.

~*~

_*opening flashback sequence occurs*_

As they walked from Care of Magical Creatures, Harry waved good-bye to Blaise, who was his current partner in said class. They were supposed to research the various creatures they had studied so far in class and write an essay on it, a joint effort between two people of opposite houses. This had been assigned at the end of the chaos on Tuesday.

Fortunately, Harry was paired with Blaise. Unfortunately, Seamus was paired with Draco.

While Harry felt sorry for Seamus, he knew that he had been given a blessed opportunity to mess with Blaise's head. Thus, after dinner he accosted Draco, Blaise, and the Tweedle-Dumb twins in the hallway, kissed Draco on the cheek, and dragged Blaise off to the library with a shout of, "We'regoingtoworkonourprojectseeyoutomorrowDraco!" Blaise, while bemused at being kidnapped, didn't object, and the two submersed themselves at Hermione's Table in the library with scrolls and books.

Harry, being the usually-oblivious-but-this-time-right-on-the-mark boy that he was, had long decided to play matchmaker for Blaise and Seamus, unbeknownst to them. He had even enlisted Draco's help on the matter. For the last couple of days, he had been thinking of asking Ron and Hermione as well, to increase his defense. Oh, yes! With Hermione on the team, they would have a lot of very, *very* fun ideas to try on the unaware matchees... Ron would be good for any extra 'convincing' they might need to do... kakaka...

Yes, Harry liked to plot. Whether it be matchmaking, Quidditch, or world domination, Harry loved to plot it. Nary has a day gone by without Harry plotting: from stealing Hermione's self-inking pen to figuring out why Dumbledore thought everything was so bloody funny. Harry had plotted it all!

So, in accordance with plottology, Harry had a few ideas by the time he had kidnapped Blaise. He had been itching to try them out for the longest of times (read: a day or two) and now he had his chance. With a mental smirk a Slytherin would be proud of, Harry turned to Blaise with a confused expression. (Who knew Harry was such a good actor? He usually can't lie worth _beans...) "Blaise?"_

Blaise looked up from his reading at the sound of his name. "Yes?"

"Can you give me some advice?" the shorter boy asked in a shy voice.

Blaise's eyes softened ever so slightly. "Sure." He sat back and stared at Harry, one hand absently moving to finger his long black ponytail.

Harry knitted his eyebrows. "I'm really worried about Seamus." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the taller boy straighten slightly at the Irish boy's name. "You know he and I were going to the dance together, right?" Blaise nodded. "Well, now that I'm with Draco, I can't go with Seamus. So I told him this, and he said it was okay and went off to find another date. Now he's going out with..." Harry shivered. "Parvati."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Patil?"

"Yeah. And, she's fine and all, but I think she's going to do something bad to Seamus at the dance. I have no idea what it is, though, and Seamus... I don't think he'd worry too much about it if he knew. But... I want to get him away from her, so he doesn't get hurt." Harry looked up at Blaise with imploring eyes. "What should I do?" 

As he'd expected, Blaise's eyes had darkened with a fun little emotion called jealousy. Harry inwardly cheered.

Blaise kept up an indifferent mask, his eyes rolling to stare at the ceiling. "Find out what she's going to do, and then get proof of it. Show that to Finnigan."

Harry frowned. "I'm not sneaky enough to get that kind of information." Blaise opened his mouth to speak, but Harry kept going, pretending not to notice. "What I need is someone who's devious and cunning, who can stalk without getting caught, who's silent and sleek and cool and..."

A hand came down on his shoulder, and Harry jumped, with the realization that maybe he had gotten a bit _too_ into his acting. He grinned sheepishly up at Blaise.

Blaise stared back, a twinkle in the dark eyes. "Are you asking me to spy for you, Harry Potter?"

Harry smiled sweetly at the taller teen. "Maybe."

Blaise smirked. "Then you got your man. I'll do your dirty work for you, Potter... but only if you give me something in return."

"And what's that?"

"A kiss."

~*~

Seamus Finnigan really wondered why he was spying on his friend and potential crush.

It's not that he didn't trust Harry Potter. Oh, no! Harry was perhaps the sweetest, most trustworthy person on the face of the planet! But Blaise Zabini... now, there was a man you couldn't trust. No, not with those dark eyes, that long hair, that velvety caramel skin... not with that lean frame, with those powerful hands and sinfully long legs... mmm...

_Whoa! Hold up there, Finnigan! There's no need to start fantasizing about Zabini. Just because he's hot, really sexy, and has the best arse in Slytherin doesn't mean that you should... start... drooling..._

_Well, okay. Maybe it does._

As he neared the library, where he knew that Harry and Blaise would be located, he heard someone's voice. Quiet as a mouse, he snuck to the slightly open door, leaning in to listen.

"...caught, who's silent and sleek and cool and –"

Another voice interrupted the first, suave and domineering. Seamus shuddered at the sound of Blaise's voice in the epitome of its sexiness. "Are you asking me to spy for you, Harry Potter?"

"Maybe." _Hmm. Harry sounds coy. Too coy. Like he wants something. Damn Potters, always knew they were conniving sorts..._

"Then you got your man. I'll do your dirty work for you, Potter... but only if you give me something in return."

"And what's that?"

"A kiss."

Seamus' jaw dropped. _WHAT?_

Harry's voice sounded amused. "A kiss? Is that all?"

"That's all I ask for."

There was the sound of a chair scraping. Seamus covered his mouth to keep himself from gasping. _That little twit, he's really going to do it!_

Harry's voice came again, low and maybe the tiniest bit uncertain. "Then here's your payment, Zabini..."

Silence.

Seamus nearly screamed. _What th'ell are the' doin'?! THAT POTTER!_ With a growl, he stood and wrenched the great doors open. "POTTER!"

Across the library, there came a crash. "Ack!" two voices chorused in harmony.

Seamus stomped past the tables and to Hermione's Table's corner, rounded a bookshelf, and took a stand in front of the two dizzy boys on the floor, his hands on his hips. "Potter, I can't believe you! Going behind my – Malfoy's back and kissing him! I didn't even get a shot! Er... Potter!!! You would think that you wouldn't be happy enough with Malfoy, but then you had to go for ZABINI of all people, when you _knew that I – that Malfoy would disapprove! Don't think I won't tell him about this!"_

Harry, who was currently entangled with Blaise on the floor, blinked up at Seamus. "Um, Seam, what are you doing here?"

Seamus fumed. "Saving him – I mean you!"

Blaise gracefully disentangled himself from Harry and stood, gazing down at Seamus. "Finnigan, if you're jealous, just say so."

Seamus' mouth dropped open. "I... I... SHUT YER TRAP! Harry, I need to talk to you!" He grabbed Harry, hauled him up, and stalked off, the smaller boy in tow. Harry yelped as he did so.

"Blaise!" Harry called, looking back at his partner with an apologetic expression. "Drop my stuff off at the Gryffindor commons, would you? I don't think Seamus is going to let me come back! Bye!"

"Damn right I won't!" Seamus snarled over his shoulder. The door slammed behind them.

~*~

Blaise stared blankly at the door as its slam echoed through the library. _He was jealous. But of whom? Me, for getting to kiss Harry... or Harry for kissing me?_ He mulled over that as he gathered his and Harry's books and scrolls and sorted them into their respective bags. _Why was he spying in the first place?_ With a sigh, he hefted the two bags and started for the door.

_I didn't even get my kiss. Damn you, Finnigan._

~*~

Seamus kept up a steady tirade all the way to... wherever they were going. Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to understand the extremely fast-talking Irish boy, then gave up when he couldn't decide whether one word was "clue" or "moo." With Seamus, it could have been either.

At some point Harry noticed that they were nearing a wall. Being the bright boy that he was, he knew that this wall might be bad for them, so he tried to tell Seamus about it.

"Seamus –"

"Shut up, Harry."

Of course, he didn't count on Seamus not wanting to hear about it. That wall was getting closer, and Harry didn't really like the thought of running into it, as he knew they would do if Seamus didn't stop soon, so he tried again.

"But Seamus –"

"Shut up, Harry."

Well, that failed. Harry pouted (unconsciously, of course, because a Potter never willingly pouts, female, gay or not). He glanced at the wall and, upon seeing that it was getting to be very big, tugged on Seamus' hand and spoke a little louder.

"But you're about to –"

"I SAID SHUT UP, HARRY!"

"...okay." 

Fine, then. Let Seamus run into the wall, if he was going to be like that. At least the Irish boy would get the worst of the impact.

Seamus heaved a breath of air, thankful that Harry had finally stopped talking. He glanced in front of them, only to find a wall rapidly closing in on them. "Oh," he said intelligently, just before running into said wall.

As usual with these kinds of collisions, there was a loud crash accompanied by two loud yells. Both boys fell to the ground in a heap. A suspicious crunch was heard amid the sharp cries of pain, and finally there was only heavy breathing.

Then a voice was heard.

"Seamus?"

"Bloody fecking hell, Harry! I don't wanna hear it! So I was dumb enough to walk into a wall! Just... shaddup!!"

"... I was going to tell you to move your leg."

"...Oh. Why is that?"

"It's in a bad position."

Here a leer entered the Irish voice. "Oh? And where is that bad position? Could it be –"

"Actually it's in the way."

The leer exited, and an affronted tone entered. "Of what?"

"Of me kicking you in the balls. Get off me!"

After some scrambling and a few choice sounds, the two Gryffindors were standing again. Seamus grabbed Harry's arm and started dragging him again. Harry sighed in exasperation.

"Where are you taking me?" _Around a corner here, through that door... oh, look! We're outside! If he tries to kill me in the woods, I'm so going to kick his arse._

"To where we won't be disturbed." _Must keep from killing Potter... must keep from killing Potter... hmm, those woods look nice... dark... secluded... I could hide from any eyes that could see me – no! No! Bad Seamus! Control the urge!!_

"And where is that?" Harry made a face at Seamus' back as they rounded another corner. _Just because he's a jealous little spy doesn't mean _I_ have to... do whatever he wants me to do! Grr._

"Here." Seamus stopped then, causing Harry to walk into his immobile. The two stumbled, righted themselves, and shared a glare. Harry peered over the sandy-haired boy's shoulder...

...and stared blankly. "The broom shed?"

Seamus looked rather triumphant. "Aye!"

"But... the _broom shed_??"

"Well, what did you expect? Dumbledore's closet?"

Harry opened his mouth to give a short retort but paused at that thought. He gave a slight shudder at the thought of being locked in Dumbledore's private wardrobe with _Seamus_ of all people. "And what, pray tell, are we going to do in the broom shed?!"

Seamus grinned at him. "Torture you."

Green eyes widened. "Wha—"

Before Harry could finish his exclamation, Seamus seized him by the arm, opened the door with his other hand, tossed Harry into the shed, and waltzed in after him.

Cue the ominous click of the lock. _Click._

~*~

Severus Snape was a creature of the night. As such, he tended to stalk the castle, ruthlessly giving out detentions to students out of bed and enjoying the looks of dread on their faces. Severus was somewhat of a sadist, one could say.

As it were, he was now on a hunt. He'd heard from a very reliable source – Blaise Zabini, as a matter of fact – that there were two students out of bed; two _Gryffindors_, to be exact. Those two rule-breaking, arrogant, downright annoying goody-two-shoes?

Harry Potter and Seamus Finnigan.

Upon hearing this piece of information, Severus had cackled and rubbed his hands together with devious glee, causing looks of alarm from the first-years, several looks of unease from the middle years, and merely raised eyebrows from his seventh-years. He'd ignored the whole lot of them and strolled out of the common room. On his way out, he had passed Blaise and Draco Malfoy, who had been discussing some project Hagrid had assigned. The two boys had glanced at him, their eyes keen, and he had made a note to talk to them later, but dismissed it for the moment. 

Nothing could ruin this night. He would have Potter and Finnigan in the palm of his hand.

So what if Blaise hadn't told _him about Potter and Finnigan? Indirect information was just as good as direct information, if not better because of the possible blackmail factor. Besides, there was some not-so-minuscule part of him – his inner Slytherin, one could say – that was completely enthralled with the whole situation. Oh, how he loved to be cunning!_

Severus smirked. He would finally catch Potter at his game!

~*~

Inside the broom shed, Seamus made himself comfortable on a bucket while Harry found himself very familiar with a Cleansweep 7. A whispered _Incendio_ lit the torch that hung beside the door. Seamus snickered, made a comment about when the wedding was, heard a click, and received a Quaffle in the face because of his remark. He shot a dark glare at his attacker, and Harry glared back.

Finally, the raven-haired boy was able to remove the Cleansweep from his premises, and upon doing so, he stood and looked around the shack. "I see no torture devices, Seam."

Seamus smirked, leaning against the wall, and in the dim light, Harry thought he looked positively wicked. "Oh, but you do, my dear boy."

Harry raised a sardonic eyebrow. "And what do I see, then, Seamus?"

"Me."

Harry burst out laughing.

Seamus looked highly affronted at this reaction, but he did not stand. Instead, he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and leering at the green-eyed boy. "You laugh now, Potter, but you'll see! They'll all see! No longer will I be called 'The Irish Lass,' for everyone will know that I am MALE!" He jumped up from his bucket and held his fist up in the air, pausing for dramatic effect.

Harry was unable to keep himself upright as his laughter increased upon hearing this announcement; thus, he fell over.

Seamus, upon realization – of what, we are unsure – put his hand down and regarded his giggling roommate on the floor with disdain. "You can ignore that. No, really, Harry, we're going to play a game of Truth or Dare."

One had to wonder if Harry hadn't suddenly keeled over, because there was suddenly an amazingly giggle-less silence. Seamus peered down at the shocked boy, then grinned that Irish grin of his.

"Scared, Potter?"

That prickled Harry's temper. He pushed himself off the ground, taking a deep breath and glaring at the Irish boy. "Truth or Dare, Seamus? What are you going to do, dare me to jump off a tower? I daresay Dumbledore would love _that_."

Seamus slowly grinned. "Oh, no, love. I'm going to do something far worse than that."

Harry snorted. "Oh, right, then, I see it all now. You're going to ask me for the sordid details of my love life."

"No, but that is a good suggestion. Thanks, love!" Harry glared. "Now, am I going to have to force you, or will you play nicely?"

Harry, in typical Gryffindor fashion, crossed his arms and planted his feet apart. "I'm game."

Seamus smiled. "Excellent."

~*~

Draco Malfoy was not a happy Slytherin.

He blamed it all on Seamus Finnigan. He had several reasons for giving this particular person the responsibility of ruining his happiness, each with a proper explanation. Draco had an outline in the back of his mind, but as he was a bit busy, he couldn't write it out and give a formal demonstration. The following paragraph would have to do.

Firstly, Finnigan was a Gryffindor. Everybody knew that Gryffindors were the cause of every problem known to mankind. Secondly, Finnigan was a pervert. Draco had a general dislike of perverts, possibly stemming from how he was hit on by all kinds of perverts – the entire Slytherin house, obsessed Ravenclaw girls, Hufflepuff first-years, Pansy – during most of his education at Hogwarts. Thus, purely on that basis alone, Draco disliked Finnigan. Thirdly, Finnigan had randomly decided to kidnap Harry. The average Hogwarts student knew that this was a Bad Idea, for the tribulation that Draco would repay to whomever touched his Golden Boy could not _possibly  be worth the joy resulting from a few seconds alone with the Boy Who Lived. Unfortunately, and finally, Finnigan was an idiot. This had been proven countless times, in class, in Quidditch, and in general happenings around Hogwarts in all the years Finnigan had attended the school. Merlin alone knew how the boy had lasted this far. Thus, in his foolishness, Finnigan tended to ignore the average wisdom a Hogwarts student usually collected during his schooling years. As a result, he did something Very Stupid and kidnapped Harry._

The moment Draco had heard that Finnigan was somewhere alone with his Harry, he had wanted to set out to save him immediately. Unfortunately, Severus had beaten him to the dramatic exit cue, with all that cackling and hand rubbing. Draco had glared fiercely at his godfather as he'd passed, but it had been for naught; the man was in complete bliss, daydreaming about his grand capture of Hogwarts' Number One Rule Breaker. With a growl, the tall blonde had flounced out of the Slytherin commons, taking time to knock several books and even a chessboard over and giving the finger to whomever objected. Blaise had followed him serenely, paying no attention to the crying first-years or the rest of the riled students, who were hissing. Draco snorted; what did they think they were – snakes?!

Now he and Blaise were on their own hunt. Draco _would find Harry, and he __would put an end to the madness that was Seamus Finnigan. His happiness depended on it!_

~*~

After finding out whether or not Draco Malfoy actually had a dimple on his right arse cheek, sneaking down to the kitchens to trick the house-elves into putting a Love Potion into the Hufflepuffs' breakfast, and making Harry reveal what he REALLY thought about Professor Snape, among other scandalous things, the two Gryffindors leaned back on their respective buckets against their respective walls and appraised each other. Seamus looked like he would have had he swallowed that canary while he was a cat-boy, and Harry looked properly annoyed. It was the Boy Who Lived's turn, and he leaned forward, the annoyance dissipating into mischief, as a smirk found its way to his face.

"Truth or dare, Seamus?"

Seamus grinned at him, white teeth flashing in the dim light. "Truth, love."

"Why were you spying on me and Blaise? And don't leave anything out, love," Harry mocked, looking evil in his leer.

Seamus froze. Hazel eyes stared at their green counterparts in shock, before the mask settled back over Seamus' face. Harry did not miss the brief glimpse of emotion, though. Seamus looked up at the ceiling, seemingly unworried. "All the sordid details, Harry?"

"Every last one of them."

Seamus sighed, and began confessing.__

~*~

Mrs. Norris glanced up, frowning. Her sixth sense of being able to tell when something mischievous and decidedly evil was happening was tingling! Letting out an ear-splitting yowl, she turned tail and ran to find her master. Together, they would rid the school of this mischief!

~*~

One confession later, Harry was feeling _very satisfied, and Seamus looked to be... pouting._

"Stupid Potters, rubbing their noses where they don't belong," he sulked, slouching on his bucket until his back was at a very odd angle with the wall. One would wonder if he didn't get back problems.

Harry was smug. "You can't go sneaking around without arousing suspicion, Seamus."

"Oh, shut up."

"Ha, ha. Your turn."

A familiar glint appeared in the hazel eyes, making them twinkle in the firelight. "Right, then. What shall it be, my good man? Truth... or dare?" he ended with a smirk, accenting the last word.

Harry, feeling rather good about himself, returned the smirk. "Dare," he drawled, absently flicking some hair out of his eyes.

Seamus leaned back, looking confident. "I dare you to wear leather pants tomorrow. _All day._ With an extremely hot clubbing shirt. And if anyone asks you about it, you're my slave for the day and that's your uniform."

There was a loud silence from Harry's end of the shed.

Seamus took one look at Harry's wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression and started laughing hysterically. "_Hooooo__! Harry, you should see your _face_! Oh, this is PRICELESS! Ha haaaaa, I shall have my revenge!" the Irish boy crowed, wiping tears from his face._

Harry's face grew red. "Seamus!" the raven-haired boy hissed, standing up and knocking over his bucket. "You can't expect me to wear leather pants to **school**! We have Potions tomorrow! _Potions,_ Seamus! Snape'll boil me alive if I show up in something like that!"

Seamus snickered. "That's your problem, now, isn't it?"

Harry had opened his mouth to reply when he faltered. A calculating look came over his face, making him look Slytherinesque – a type of expression that had been occurring more and more often with the school's Golden Boy. Seamus eyed him with sudden apprehension.

"...Harry?"

Harry smiled then, the expression disarming and rather charming. Seamus felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck. "Truth or Dare, Seamus?"

Okay, Seamus was Officially Creeped Out. But whoever said the Boy Who Lived was sane? Seamus, after living in the same dorm with Harry for six years, knew this well. He let himself relax, hazel eyes watching the other boy lazily. What could Harry possible do to him? "Dare."

Later, Seamus would wonder WHY he had said that word. For the evil smile that spread across the other boy's lips coupled with the words that spelled out his doom would forever be imprinted on his mind, marking the night that he could safely say was the worst night of his life.

"I dare you to do the exact same. Tomorrow, you will wear leather pants, with an extremely hot clubbing shirt. You will wear these items all day. When asked about it, you will state that you are the slave of Harry Potter and that this is your uniform. Oh, and you will wear a thong."

Silence.

Harry smiled, glanced at his nails, and counted down. Three, two, one –

"WHAAAAT?!"

~*~

Five heads turned. Five pairs of eyes narrowed. Four mouths smirked. Three voices whispered, "I have you now!" while a fourth meowed, and a fifth muttered under its breath, "Why me?"

From the shadows of the School slithered a Professor.

From the trees of the Forest skulked a Caretaker and his Cat.

From the steps of the Stands strode two Students.

Two of those pairs of eyes were fixed upon the broom shed. As the two partners reached the broom shed, one reached out to the door and met the eyes of his other, putting a finger to his lips. His slim fingers touched the doorknob and wrapped around it, and with a quick flick of the wrist and a sharp tug, he threw the door open.

Blaise strode into the broom shed, his eyes finding and fixing on the two boys who, while in a stance of getting ready to attack each other, were staring at him in shock. "Calm down, boys! We're taking over this broom shed."

Draco jumped into the room after him, silver eyes wild and decidedly demonic. "Aye! Avast!"

There was a pause, before Harry and Seamus forgot about their shock and fell over laughing. Blaise turned and gave Draco a Look. The blond grinned back, as if proud.

Harry sat up. "Draco, I believe you have gone utterly mad. Avast? You sound like a pirate!"

Draco's eyes gleamed. "I _am a pirate. I'm here to plunder you." He stepped forward, making Harry laugh._

"Don't make me laugh, Draco!" he giggled.

Draco paused, raising an eyebrow. "I just did, Harry."

"Oh, shut up."

Seamus finally sat up, his amusement over the ferret's proclamation fading to a few chuckles every now and then. He ignored the couple's banter and looked up at Blaise. The dark Slytherin was glancing between said couple and the door. His foot was tapping against the floor, but he didn't seem to notice its actions. Seamus found some sort of delight in this, yet he hit it well. "Well, hullo there, Zabini."

Dark russet eyes landed on him, undaunted by his brazen attitude yet daunting in their own. "Finnigan."

Seamus smiled charmingly. "Why, Blaise, is that your wand in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"

For a few seconds, he was able to enjoy the blush that rose up Blaise's neck. After those few seconds, though, he suddenly couldn't breathe, thanks to the arm locked around his neck. A low voice, one very recognizable, hissed in his ear.

"Finnigan, if I EVER catch you alone with Harry again, I will skin you like the cat you were the other day. Only you won't be the cat. Got it?"

Seamus managed a tiny "Got it," and then Draco let him go. Seamus fell to his knees, his hands going to his neck. Blaise knelt beside him, long hands rubbing circles into Seamus' tense back. He shot an angry look to Draco, but the blonde ignored the look and dragged Harry out the door. Draco didn't notice the dark look that crossed Harry's face right before the door closed behind them.

Someone else did, however.

"He's going to get it," Blaise muttered. He looked down at Seamus, who was calming his breathing. "I hope he does. He shouldn't have done that to you."

Seamus, with his eyes closed, began to relax into the other boy's ministrations. "I thi—" He was interrupted by a sharp string of coughs, each hurting more than its predecessor was.

The warm hands left his back, and he could barely hold in a whimper before they took hold of his hands and gently pulled them away. "There, there," Blaise said, his voice soft against Seamus' ear. "Let me have a look." His fingers brushed against the pale column.

Seamus opened his eyes, looking past the pained tears to Blaise, who was focused on his throat. The tall boy probed his sore skin gently, pausing whenever Seamus flinched and stroking whenever he shuddered. Seamus liked the look of concentration on Blaise's face. It brought out his eyes.

They were, at the moment, full of anger, but Seamus could see it only so well, so dark were those russet orbs. He felt his heart beat faster, and without thinking, he caught one of Blaise's hands and kissed the pale fingertips.

The hands froze in their actions. Stunned russet eyes shot up to meet his, but Seamus dropped his gaze. "Sorry," he whispered hoarsely, letting go of Blaise's hand. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"It's okay," Blaise said just as quietly, his hands dropping from Seamus' neck. He pulled out his wand, pointed it at where his hands had been, and whispered a healing charm. Seamus' neck instantly felt better.

They stood at odds for a moment, both wanting to say something, but neither having anything to say. After searching his mind ragged for something to break the uncomfortable silence, Seamus came up with a question.

"Why did you two come here, anyway?" His voice was soft and somewhat scratchy; Seamus hurried to clear his throat.

Blaise's eyes darted around the shed before returning to Seamus. "Draco didn't like the idea of you alone with Potter."

Seamus sniffed, glancing at the open door with distaste. "Well, Malfoy can kiss my a—"

"Language, Mr. Finnigan," a new, nasty voice interrupted. Both boys froze. Slowly they turned, step by step, until they came face-to-face with Professor Snape.

"Oh, shit," said Seamus eloquently.

Even as Snape stepped from the shadows, one could not tell where the Professor began and where the shadows ended. It was as if Snape _was part of the shadows, dark and sinister with deep secrets untold._

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Finnigan, for not heeding a teacher's warning. And that's only the tip of the iceberg of points you and Potter will lose when I..." The Professor stopped as his wandering gaze fell onto Blaise, who was very much not Harry Potter.

Seamus and Blaise exchanged glances, then started a countdown in their heads.

_Three... two..._

Boom, erupted Snape's temper. _"POTTER!"_

~*~

Somewhere near a painting of Gilderoy Lockhart, a certain Gryffindor sneezed.

~*~

The furious Professor, after uttering every foul curse known to wizardkind, seized his wand and dashed out the door. Before either Blaise or Seamus could as much as snicker, however, the dark-haired man poked his head back into the shed. "You," he hissed, black eyes narrowed much like a snake's, "will _not move from this spot. Is that __clear?"_

The two boys nodded. Then Snape was gone.

When Snape's loud curses were no longer audible outside, Blaise grabbed Seamus' hand and pulled him to the door. He looked out, saw that the coast was clear, and ran. Consequentially, Seamus was dragged along for the ride. The two were not seen again until the next morning, when Dean woke the entire Gryffindor house up with his cry of surprise at seeing a Slytherin in his best friend's bed.

Snape never caught Harry or his various partners in crime that night. He was able to take out his anger upon a helpless third-year whom had been locked into a closet by his roommates after he'd bet on Colin Creevy managing to get a wicked photo of Harry. They obvious had not agreed with him.

Argus Finch and Mrs. Norris were also unable to apprehend any rule-breaking students; however, they did attempt to apprehend a rule-abiding student, who was perfectly in the law while she was in the Astronomy Tower taking notes on the positions of Saturn and Neptune. As her professor was standing over her shoulder at the time, Finch and his cat were unsuccessful in giving her detention for being out of bed without permission.

Harry and Draco, after a fierce argument over how Draco treated Seamus, went their separate ways in decidedly Bad Moods. Harry had lost his temper on Draco when the other boy had called Seamus a Very Nasty Name. Draco firmly believed that he was _not_ in the wrong, though as his boyfriend had decided to forego speaking to him until he started behaving, the Slytherin had begun to think about doing what Harry said and apologizing to Seamus. Harry knew that Draco would eventually see it his way, because Draco loved him and Draco would do anything to keep him from losing his temper again, lest Harry decide to hex the Slytherin, as he was prone to do when near his wand in a volatile mood.

Which brings us to today...

_*ending flashback sequence occurs*_

~*~

Harry shifted, sighed, and went back to stirring his potion. The leather was far too uncomfortable. It was riding up his bum as well as suffocating his legs. _At least_, he thought to himself, _I'm not wearing a thong. Although, I have to wonder if it would feel better... Anything would feel better than this!_

Fortunately, he had been able to hide his 'outfit' for most of the day with his robes, though some of the classrooms were rather warm. In such a case, the desk was (most of the time) a sufficient barrier of protection.

Unfortunately, due to the well-known fact that robes get in the way when you're brewing potions, he'd had to take it off when he'd started working. Thankfully, Snape had not noticed his...attire...for the day...yet.

He still wasn't talking to Draco, despite the other boy's better attempts at getting him to acknowledge him. After the muffin incident, Harry had patted himself on the back for a job well done. If muffins couldn't make him talk to Draco, nothing could.

"Harry, I want to have your baby."

Except maybe that.

"I'll let you be on top when we conceive it. I'll even carry it. For nine whole months. I'll put up with the morning sickness and everything."

Harry tried to imagine Draco with a large belly, a pickle in one hand, and a pint of pistachio ice cream in the other. He suppressed a grin and whispered a spell to freeze the potion in its current state, at the same time turning the heat off.

"And when I have it, I won't complain or squeeze your hand till it breaks or scream bloody murder or even hex the doctor. And I'll even breast-feed."

He couldn't help it; he snorted. Immediately Snape shot a death-glare at him, and Harry quickly swallowed any forthcoming giggles and began bottling the potion.

Beside him, Draco was silent, though Harry could tell the other boy was smiling. He picked up the bottle and stood to take it to the storage room. On his way, he bumped into someone.

"Oh, excuse me," he muttered, glancing at the person to make sure they were okay. He met fiercely blue eyes, which regarded him coolly before looking away. Shaking his head, he continued to the storage room.

When he came back, Draco caught his eyes and held them firmly. "I love you," he mouthed.

Harry looked away. _I'm not going to give in, Draco. You hurt my friend. I won't stand for that._

A memory of last night's fight came back to him. He quickly lowered his eyes, lest anyone see his reaction.

_"Why are you fighting with Seamus?"_

_"What do you mean, why –"_

_"You know exactly what I mean."_

_"He should know to stay away what isn't his."_

_"You don't own me._

_"... I never said that."_

_"But you implied it. You're fighting with Seamus over _me_. Why? Why is he so dangerous to you? It's not like he's going to steal me away or anything."_

_"Harry..."_

_"He's my _friend_, Draco. I don't want him to get hurt!"_

_"So you care about him?"_

_"The same way I care about Ron, or Dean, or Ginny. Who are friends and nothing more."_

_"But he's after you –"_

_"No, Draco, he's not. He's already given me his word he wasn't going to pursue me. He knows how I feel about you and respects that. Obviously you don't have any respect for how I feel about him."_

_"Look, Harry, I know Finnigan. He's up to something. He just wants you for your body! He just wants to –"_

_"NO, HE DOESN'T!"_

_"Harry –"_

_"That's a lie, Draco, and you know it! Seamus hasn't once tried to seduce me! Sure, he's teased me about it, but he teases everyone about it! I'm no different!"_

_"But Harry –"_

_"NO! Don't 'but Harry' me! I'm sick of it! I'm sick of you fighting with Seamus over me! I'm sick of you not treating my friends like people! I'm sick of it, Draco!"_

_"Harry –"_

_"Until you can learn to treat my friends like humans, which, Draco, they indeed are, I don't think I want to be talking to you!"_

_"I..."_

_"Good night, Draco."_

The green-eyed boy sighed. _I shouldn't have yelled like that. But he needs to stop! It's like he's intent on beating Seamus to win me, when he already has me! I love him, not Seamus. Doesn't he realize that?_

Before he could continue, Harry's thoughts were interrupted by an explosion.

Immediately the room smelled like turnips. Harry coughed and turned to look at the source of the boom. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to see that it was Seamus.

The hazel-eyed boy's face was purple. His usually sandy blonde hair was also purple, and the thick strands were sticking straight up. His eyes were wide and unfocused, and at his sides, his fingers twitched convulsively. Not even Snape moved to yell at him.

Gradually, as the class stared at Seamus and Seamus stared at nothing, nothing began to disappear from Seamus' view, and the hazel eyes began to clear. The violently purple smoke had cleared away by the time Seamus saw the classroom; thus, instead of purple, Seamus saw red.

"PARKINSON!"

Pansy looked blankly at him as he spun around to glare at her. At his enraged look, she cocked an eyebrow. "What? Have you finally snapped, Finnigan?"

Hazel eyes shot daggers at her. "I SAW that, you little twit! You put powdered asphodel in my cauldron! I saw you do it!!"

Her lips curled into a smile. "Did you really? I don't remember doing such a thing."

"You did so!"

The smile turned feral. "Prove it," she whispered.

Seamus started forward. "Why, you –"

"Mr. Finnigan!" boomed a deep voice from behind him. Snape had finally left his desk and had homed in on the source of the disaster.

Seamus stopped in his advance but continued to glare at Pansy. "But Professor –"

Snape ignored him and looked at Pansy. "Ms. Parkinson, did you tamper with Mr. Finnigan's potion?"

The girl took on an affronted expression. "Of course I didn't, Professor! I wouldn't do that to another student!"

Snape smiled nastily as he looked back to Seamus. "You see, Mr. Finnigan? Ms. Parkinson did not put powdered root of asphodel in your potion. Most likely you were being careless, as you always are –"

"But, Professor!"

"– and messed it up on your own. Perhaps one of your little pixie friends tossed it in there to get back at you for something. No doubt you have some nasty enemies, Mr. Finnigan." One had to be dead not to hear the sarcasm in Snape's voice. "Now, twenty points from Gryffindor –"

"WHAT!"

"– for almost attacking a student unprovoked. Not only that, but you get another detention for ruining my classroom! Is that clear, Mr. Finnigan?"

Seamus' eyes widened. He started to protest even as he turned around to face Snape. "But, Professor, you saw –" He stopped, though, at seeing the look on the older man's face.

The dark eyes were narrowed, but even Harry – especially Harry – could see the malice glittering in their obsidian depths. Harry shuddered slightly, glad that Snape wasn't looking at _him. Beside him, Draco shifted._

Seamus looked away first. He instead glared at his ruined cauldron and nodded. "Yes, sir," he muttered, his voice tight.

Snape smirked. "Everyone but Finnigan, finish your potions and store them in the appropriate place. Finnigan, clean this mess up, then see me after class." He turned away.

"Yes, sir." Seamus went to get a rag and a scraper. His expression was blank.

Harry stared at the ruined cauldron, then glanced back at Pansy. He was startled, though, to see her blue eyes fixed on him instead of Seamus. They stared at each other, one confused, the other haughty, before Pansy went back to her work. Harry stifled a sigh and began putting away his ingredients.

Five minutes later: BOOM!

Harry coughed, wondered why Seamus attracted explosions, and decided that the Irish boy was simply very volatile in his natural state. He turned and stared at the now purple-with-green mess beside his and Draco's worktable. He was surprised to find that the smoking cauldron – this time, green – belonged to none other than Blaise Zabini.

Snape had gone back to his desk, but he wasn't seated behind it; instead, he had been standing beside the ingredients table, taking stock of what the students had left. Thus, he was treated to the full experience of having the contents of Blaise's cauldron explode in his direction. Now, the black-haired man was completely covered in green, smelly goop (completely nontoxic, I assure you). The tall Professor stared open-mouthed at Blaise, who was staring at what was left of his cauldron with a bemused expression. Seamus, who had been on the floor cleaning, was now staring up at Blaise in shock. Finally, Snape found his voice.

"Zabini, what is the meaning of this?!"

Blaise glanced at him. "I don't quite know, Professor. Somehow, a large piece of crocodile heart was lobbed into my cauldron." His eyes lowered, though his face was eerily serene. "Maybe I was being careless..."

Snape's eye twitched.

"It seems to me," Blaise continued blandly, "that it came from behind me. Maybe some pixies dropped it there... Perhaps, for some reason, I upset them."

There was a long silence.

Finally, Blaise turned around to look at the person sitting behind him. "You would have happened to have seen anything, Pansy, dear?" he inquired politely.

She stared at him, mouth open and agape.

Snape came to his senses then. "DETENTION, ZABINI!"

Harry didn't know if anybody else noticed it, but he saw Blaise smile.

~*~

"What the blazes was that all about, anyway?!"

Blaise barely glanced up from his work at Draco's adamant demand. "What the blazes was what all about, Draco?" he replied calmly.

Draco tossed his rag to the ground and waved his arms around. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Zabini! That! That thing you did in Potions, which landed you detention with us!"

Blaise looked up and held Draco's eyes for a long moment. He finally smiled. "Pixies," he said quietly. Then he went back to his work.

"Aaaarrrgghh!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, hush up," he muttered, more to himself than to the others. _I swear, if I don't go insane by the time the night's over, then I'll have put all three of us in the Infirmary ward._

The three boys were cleaning up the mess left from Seamus' and Blaise's accidents in Potions. They, with Seamus, had been told to meet outside Snape's classroom. Snape had barely left instructions with the three before dragging Seamus off to do Merlin knew what, though all three boys agreed that whatever punishment Seamus was receiving was going to be far worse than their own, if Snape's expression was anything by which to judge.

Once the two had left, a tense silence had stuck with the three detentionees, as Blaise stared at the floor, Draco stared at Blaise, and Harry pretty much ignored both of them. Then Draco had burst out with a question, much like just now, which was made just to goad Blaise. Not to be daunted, Blaise had goaded him right back, knowing all the right buttons to push, apparently. The pair's argument, if one could call it that, had escalated to the point where Draco wasn't working at all, Blaise had finished half as much as Harry had, and Harry was ready to strangle both of them.

Blaise finished wiping down one table and moved to the next. "I don't know what your problem is, Draco. PMS, perhaps?"

Draco squawked, and Harry hid a smile. "What do you mean, 'PMS'?! I'm not a girl!"

"Could have fooled me," Blaise muttered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing, Draco," the dark-haired Slytherin sang. Draco sulked.

_Like children. Both of them._ Harry desperately wanted them to stop this petty display. He quickly thought of something that would change the subject. "At least," he said pointedly, eyes narrowing at a particularly obstinate mark, "this wasn't the Medicus potion. Then probably everyone would have had to start the whole thing over, just because of the fumes." The mark wouldn't go away with just scrubbing, so he rewet his rag and went at it again.

There was silence after his statement, and for that, Harry felt relieved. Absently he wondered to himself why Draco was so angry with Blaise. _Probably just has his knickers in a twist_, the Gryffindor thought sourly. He was still upset with Draco over his behavior with Seamus.

"You probably hoped to spend tonight with Finnigan," Draco said suddenly. "That's why you made your potion explode. Be with your little Irish pixie, eh?" The blonde leered. "Didn't work out the way you wanted it to, did it, Blaisie?"

"Don't call me that," Blaise said mildly.

"Blaisie. Blaisie Blaisie Blaisie."

"You're acting like you're two, Draco. I thought you grew out of diapers a long time ago."

"At least I'm not –"

Harry finally snapped. "Will you two just shut UP?!" he snapped, throwing his rag into the bucket and standing up. "Ever since Snape left all you two've done is bite each other's heads off! You're acting like Hermione and Ron on a good day! A _good_ day! Draco, shut up and start working. You haven't done a damn thing all night. Blaise, stop provoking him, and I know you're doing it on purpose. I don't have the slightest clue WHY, and right now, I don't care. Stop. Fighting. If I have to, I WILL treat you both like you ARE toddlers. Do you want that?" He felt like an irate babysitter.

Draco scowled at him, but Blaise only met his eyes calmly. "Sorry," Blaise said. Draco said nothing, but he did pick up his rag and begin cleaning.

Harry sat back down with a huff and started scrubbing again. "Some people," he muttered to himself, though the room's other occupants could hear him clearly. "Give them an inch, they take a mile, and what are you going to do then? I swear..." He carried on in this vein for quite a while.

Right before Harry was going to curse Blaise and Draco's infidelity to Seamus and himself, the door banged open, and into the classroom stalked a fuming Irishman. All three boys jumped at Seamus' entrance, each looking up from his work and staring at the other boy. "Some people!" said Irish boy exclaimed. "All you have to do is look at 'em and they go nuts! All I asked was, 'Could you hand me that, Professor?' and off he goes!"

Seamus tossed the filthy cauldrons onto the table and threw himself onto the stool beside it. He looked at Harry and proceeded to rant at him. "Can you believe it, Harry? And then he goes off on this huge tangent about how I'm a 'worthless worm' and an 'idiotic ingrate' and a whole bunch of other things that he shouldn't be saying to a student! If I didn't know that nothing would come of it, I would go to Dumbledore to get him fired! It's verbal abuse! 'Course, it's nothing compared to what he says to you, Harry, but still! Have I ever done him any harm in the past? Have I ever mortally wronged him? I swear! What is that man's problem?"

Without pause he rounded on Blaise and nodded emphatically. "I bet I know what it is. He needs to be laid. He hasn't gotten any in any of the years he's been teaching and since I'm very certain he's not a pedophile, he is just DYING for some good wholesome sex. I wonder if I could –"

"You could what?" injected Draco before Seamus could finish that statement. "Screw him and make it all better?" The Slytherin sneered. "You're already the biggest slut in the school, Finnigan, so I'm sure it wouldn't tarnish your...ahem...reputation."

Seamus glared at him. "Look who's talking, O High and Mighty Slut of Slytherin House."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Now how would you know about that?"

"Ooooh," growled Seamus.

"Now, Seamus," soothed Blaise, "don't mind him. Someone lit the fuse on his tampon a bit too early, if you know what I mean."

"BLAISE!"

Harry, having noticed this new argument clearly, took this as his cue to start banging his head on the table leg beside him. After a few good knocks on the noggin, he pulled himself to his feet and _glared at the other boys, who had stopped bickering and were now staring at him. "That. Is. IT. Draco, shut your mouth and scrub that table. Seamus, take your cauldrons to the __other side of the room. Blaise, get your arse over here and scrub this floor. I've done more work than _any_ of you have and right now I'm going to see to it that you all __shut the bloody fuck _up_ and do some _damn_ work so that I can have some peace and quiet! Or else I'm going to march out there, find Snape, tell him _exactly_ what each and every one of you have said, and let him have a go at you! I wouldn't care if he yelled at me, too, just so that he put the three of you in your places! Now get to work!"_

None of the other boys moved. Harry's eyes narrowed as Seamus leaned toward Blaise. "Are you sure it was the fuse on _Malfoy's tampon that was lit today?" he whispered loudly. Harry fumed._

"Seamus –"

A hand touched his shoulder then, and Harry was surprised to find that Blaise had somehow moved from beside Seamus to behind him. "I'm sorry, Harry. We'll do the rest of the work, since you've already done nearly half the room." The tall boy paused, then pulled something out of his pocket. "I was going to share these later, but I think you could use one now." He gave Harry a small package. Harry heard the rustle inside and looked up at Blaise.

"What is this?

Blaise smiled at him. "This is wizarding candy, called Sugar Pixies. It makes a person act like a pixie for a certain amount of time, depending on how much they eat. I was thinking we could all go to Draco's room after the detention and share them."

Harry stared at the package, then up at Blaise. "And this will help me, how?" he inquired.

Blaise smiled innocently. "You'd be too busy bouncing off the ceiling to be annoyed with us."

Harry stared at him, looked back at the package, and firmly tore it open. He grinned at Blaise. "Works for me."

~*~

_"Wheeeeeeeeeeee!"_ ...squealed the hyper Harry as he ran past Draco's room again.

Draco looked at Blaise. "Tell me again just _why you gave him that sugar."_

Blaise only smiled.

~*~

_To Be Continued..._

In light of the fifth book... I am going to make this as close to the canon as possibly, with some definite changes. Therefore, this story will be an AU, BUT that is because it will diverge from the Harry Potter series starting with the sixth book. That's right, kiddies, I'm counting the fifth book, excluding certain points (like the kiss Harry shares with Cho ^_^). I really, _really_ wish I didn't have to, but this is better for this series in the long run. I won't assume that everyone has read the fifth book (although, it's very likely), so I will try my hardest not to give away spoilers. This also means that I've edited the previous chapters to fit the fifth book's context. I suggest you reread the story up to now.

I've been **archived!** It's on h t t p : / / p u r e m a g n e t i s m . s a r c a s t i c – m u s e . c o m"_Pure Magnetism_/a_, a H/D site that looks promising. I'm also going to be archived on Schnoogle. ^_^_

_Crickets Go To _: **Chocolat**** Elf, ****Liamaria, ****Katie of Gryffindor, **Demon Rising**, **M.E.E.M.O.**, ****corrupt_monk13, ****AzureLuna, ****Lunaris, ****Colder Than Ice, **Jade Maxwell**, **Fate's Forgotten** gets two, and **Moona** gets three.**

It's official. **The canary has a home.** When TAAM is over, Tripp the Canary of Doom is going to **Demon Rising. Bug 'er about 'im if you want 'im. Now, Demon-san, don't get mad at me for plotting against your future-to-be canary. At the moment he's still under my rule. There may very well be a special chapter just for him. (Don't worry, I won't torture him _too_ much... He'll still be in one piece and living when I hand him over to you. *bwahaha...*)**

If you're wondering why Harry isn't in Divination, well... ^_^. That will be explained. Sometime. Whenever it comes up in the story. *sweatdrop*


	16. The Not Quite a Quidditch Game But Still...

**Author's Notes : **Heeey, remember that old cookie I gave you a while ago, the moldy one with Colin in it? Keep it in mind... =D Oh, and feel free to plot against Harry's not-so-favorite stalker as much as you like...

I very much recommend _Seamus is Seamus and You are Yourself_ by Ari Munami. I know it's on FF-net, and it's on the PSA, so go find it! It's one of the best H/D stories to show how you can't control yourself when you're in love with another person. (No, I won't even start on _Irresistible Poison_. I effing WORSHIP Rhysenn. She is the all-mighty goddess of fantabulicious slash.)

Thanks again to the kids in the TAAM forum, who helped me with various and sundry points in this chapter. Also, a HUGE thanks to Alasse for beta-ing for me.

**Warnings: Mature themes. Some violence. Some psychological angst. (Sadly, even I have to travel that road a bit...) Language. This part is PG-15.**

-

**The Anti-Angst Movement**

**Chapter 16 : The Not Quite a Quidditch Game But Still Concerning Quidditch Cliche**

-

A gale of wind swept through the trees, scattering the leaves on the ground and spreading the refreshing chill of the morning. The late October wind brought with it a cool feeling, making one look up and shiver. The sky was a blackish color in the distance, while overhead it was blue and grey with dulled silver lining. Occasionally, one would hear a vague rumble, but one could not be sure if it were thunder or not.

On this day, Harry Potter was in the mood to fly. He wanted to feel the wind beneath his fingertips. He wanted to chase the Snitch to the ends of the earth. He wanted to touch the sky.

In the month since his last detention, Harry had put nearly all of his energy into training for the Quidditch season. He had trained with his team, with Oliver, and even with Draco. The two boys had found that they were still as competitive as ever, and that now their competition was better, because they wouldn't hate each other when the game was over.

Last week, Gryffindor had played against Ravenclaw, and Ron had been _very_ pleased with its results. Harry's training had paid off – in Galleons, according to Seamus, who had been overly pleased with the game's results as well. Harry didn't understand why, but then, he didn't understand much of anything where Seamus was involved. Harry was happy as well, because he had wanted to fly against Ravenclaw's new seeker, Annie Boot, Terry Boot's fifth-year sister. She had been rumored to be near Harry's level of skill, and to Harry's delight, that rumor was true. Last Saturday had been one of the best games of his life.

Today, though, he wanted to fly for himself, instead of for the team. Today was a day for relaxation. He had promised to train with Draco tomorrow – but that was tomorrow. Today was today.

As he mounted his trusted _Firebolt_, Harry breathed in the scent of rain. The sky was the limit; and off he flew.

For how long he flew, Harry did not know. He knew nothing of time, of the hours that passed, of the seconds it took him to cross the field, of the long moments he spent in each exhilarating dive. He knew nothing of Hogwarts, only of the cool air, of the distant thunder, of the soft wind. All that existed to Harry was his partner, the sky – near-endless in its silky grey and vibrant blue, with the sun's molten silver rays lining the clouds and spilling down onto parts of that forbidden wood. Yet to an end it came, at lightning-dotted clouds of murky black, which were moving ever so slowly toward Harry's sanctuary.

Soon the blue disappeared, taking with it the sun's rays; only the silver lining and grey clouds remained. Even the silver disappeared after time had passed, leaving only shades of grey. As he flew, though, Harry noticed not the passage of the clouds, but their colors and textures. He took no heed of the cool, steady rain, which swept over him hours into his dance. He simply did not mind the rain, when it faded, when it intensified, when it burned his skin in its haste to meet the ground. He barely noticed his hand taking out his wand and performing a charm to keep the water off his glasses. The rain moved as if it were part of him; with it, he continued his dance with the sky.

When the dance ended, however, Harry was thoroughly surprised by his surroundings. The sky was dark, the wind was biting, and the rain was cold. His loose clothes were sopping wet, and his entire body was slick with rainwater. Harry guided his broom to the ground and slipped off, his hand instinctively grasping the handle. He looked up at the sky, emotionless.

He thought, idly, that he should take a shower. As he turned from the field, though, one could see a smile on his face.

-

Harry moaned softly as the hot water poured down his body. "That feels _so_ good," he whispered aloud. No one else was in the Gryffindor locker rooms at this time, so Harry didn't mind giving in to his insanity for a little while.

He didn't reach for the soap right away, but instead leaned back against the cool stone wall and let the water cascade over his sore body. Absently his fingers found the various cracks and edges of the rocks that made up the wall. He sighed. _Today was wonderful... I haven't relaxed like that in a very long time. Ah, I love to fly..._ Idly, he grinned. _I like flying in the rain. I'll probably get a cold, though._

As if on cue, he sneezed. "Damn," he swore softly, not really meaning it. He was in too good a mood. He then grinned and reached for the soap; yet when he began to scrub it against his wet skin, it slipped away from his fingers and clattered to the floor. Harry muttered and reached down to pick it up. Once the slippery bar of antiseptic had been secured, Harry happily continued his shower.

-

Many people feared Colin Creevey.

Maybe it was because Colin had successfully established the world's first official Harry Potter fan club with the help of Ginny Weasley at the tender age of twelve. Maybe it was because Colin was a Junior Photographer for the _Daily Prophet_ in his fifth year of school. Maybe it was because privacy was an unknown subject in Colin's mind, forcing many witches and wizards to flee whenever he raised his camera.

Whatever the reason, Colin Creevey was notoriously afeard among the majority of the students at Hogwarts, and employed by the rest. As a general rule, Colin didn't think too much on how the other students viewed him, instead taking orders and allowing himself to do the thing he enjoyed most: take photographs. Even so, he did get a good kick out of the reactions his camera received on certain occasions.

He had over a hundred albums, and nearly three-fourths of those were from his days at Hogwarts. The majority of them centered on Harry Potter – not Harry Potter as in the Boy Who Lived, but Harry Potter as in The Boy Who Played Quidditch, The Boy Who Loved Bertie's Beans, The Boy Who Had Ink Spots All Over His Hands. For years, Colin had obsessed over Harry; he had savored every image he could get of the Boy Wonder, and with those pictures he would either work on his collection or he would...encourage...his sales pitch. Yes, Colin exploited Harry Potter. It wasn't as if Harry didn't ask for it, with those big, green eyes, those full lips, that sinewy frame...

Colin glanced over his most recent pictures and decided he needed a new batch. Hadn't Harry said he would be flying today? Right about now he'd be in the shower...

Colin smirked as he picked up his camera. Exploiting, indeed... he loved to exploit Harry Potter, for out of the entire school (and quite possibly the whole wizarding community), Harry Potter was the Boy Who Feared Colin the Most.

-

As he showered, Harry thought about various things, mostly involving Halloween and the next Hogsmeade weekend. Absently, he wondered if Draco might like to go with him, and from there the young Boy Wonder's thoughts strayed to what he might do with Draco afterward. A sudden image of Draco with his shirt unbuttoned and a wicked look in his eyes appeared in his mind, and Harry flushed red.

After his initial embarrassment, Harry shook his head and began rinsing off the soap. Still blushing, he thought, _God, I'm such a girl. Just a mental image of Draco's chest is enough to make me squirm. It's as if I'm crushing on him and he doesn't even know about it! He's my **boyfriend**, for crying out loud. It's my right to think dirty thoughts about him!_

He sighed softly and spoke aloud, "That's the problem, though. He...he's probably done dozens of girls, and maybe even boys. I'm such a virgin... I can barely handle him shirtless. What if we went all the way? I'd be too busy blushing to...even c-climax."

He could feel his blush deepen even as he said the word. Climax. Not like in masturbation, but fulfillment with a partner... Reaching one's peak because of another's ministrations.

_Sex._

Harry shook his head furiously, sending droplets of water everywhere. _What the hell is wrong with me?! I may be a virgin, but I've thought about it all before! I've even talked about it with Draco! Dammit, **I've** come onto **him**! Why am I being such a prude about all this?!_

His mind turned to that afternoon, on the day that he and Draco had "come out" to the school. _I bet,_ Harry thought, the afternoon's events running through his mind, _that we would have gone all the way had there been no interruptions._ He sighed softly, thinking of how Draco had touched him, of his words when Harry had sat on top of him.

"I'd like for you to ravage me," he said wistfully, blushing slightly as he imagined what might have happened if Pansy and Snape hadn't interrupted them. He didn't go too far in his daydream, knowing that he had to go back to his dormitory soon, but he did think about how it had felt for Draco to have most of the control that time.

_Wonderful... Everything with Draco is wonderful. Him taking care of me was great, but I don't care who's on top, who has the control, or anything like that. As long as I'm with him, anything would feel fantastic. Besides, when I'm with him like that, I don't even think about what I'm doing... I just do it. Hopefully, if we ever do go all the way, I'll be like that._

_Unfortunately, it seems like that'll never happen,_ he sighed. _He's hardly touched me these past few weeks... All physical activity beyond closed-mouth kissing has been started by me! It's as if...as if he's lost interest in me. Like he doesn't want me, doesn't find me attractive. But...that can't be true, can it? He was turned on by me before._

_Maybe I'm wrong, and he's just saving his energy for something. Oh, I don't know... I hate having to worry over all this,_ he thought as he turned the water off and reached for his towel. _Draco'd probably call me a moron for stressing over having sex with him. Then he'd get all huffy at the idea that I might be uncomfortable with the idea, and then egotistical over being able to turn me into a blushing school girl merely by unbuttoning his shirt._

With the towel secured around his waist, Harry stepped out of the shower stall and into the open changing area. He walked to where he had left his clothes and broom, not really noticing his surroundings. The image of Draco and that open shirt was playing with his mind, stretching out over Draco's bed and waving flirtatiously at him.

So deep in his thoughts was he that Harry almost didn't hear the gasp behind him; however, even if he hadn't, he definitely noticed the shadow standing over him as well as the significant absence of his clothes and wand. He was not alone – all thoughts of Draco flew from his mind as Harry realized this. He whirled around, his grip tightening on his towel, only to be confronted with none other than Colin Creevey.

_What...?_ The other boy's presence completely dumbfounded Harry, and he almost lost his towel at the look in Colin's eyes.

-

Colin fingered his camera nervously, thoroughly delighted by the eye candy in front of him. He couldn't believe his luck! Here was Harry Potter, his obsession for six long years of his life, one of the most striking boys in the _school_ – naked but for a _towel_. As this single thought happily tossed all others out of his head, a manic grin entered Colin's eyes. The young photographer took a step toward Harry, mindlessly lifting his camera and purring.

-

Harry watched with wide, horrified eyes as Colin ran a finger along his camera, murmuring soft, indiscernible words to the small black box. Harry felt his control start to slip.

_Oh. Please. NO!_

Colin looked up, his eyes wide and bright with worship for His Harry. "Oh, Harry," he trilled, stepping even closer to the terrified Boy Who Lived, either oblivious to the feelings he had spurned or enjoying them immensely, "I want to take a picture of you..._naked..._" the sixth-year ended in a excited tone, looking completely aroused at the thought. Harry gaped at him.

It was then that a degree of indignation entered Harry's mind. As he watched Colin eye him as if he were a stick of candy, Harry's temper began to rise. How _dare_ Colin interrupt his shower! At the end of such a wonderful day, Harry deserved nothing less than a relaxing shower, a hot dinner, and a good, long cuddle with his boyfriend. In no way did Colin Creevey and his perverse obsession fit into that agenda!

The glint of his wand caught Harry's eye, and the dark-haired boy glanced at Colin's pocket, where said instrument sat.

An evil thought entered Harry's mind then.

_What if I pretended to seduce him? Then taught him a lesson about respecting my privacy?_ Harry wondered if such an idea would work on Colin. To test it, he laid a hand on his hip and jutted it out slightly. The hitch in Colin's breathing convinced him of the power he held over the boy's hormones. _Why not?_ he thought as his lips slowly curled into a sultry smile. _This can be practice for Draco, only not really. And I won't exactly come onto him..._ He imagined teaching Colin that "lesson" and getting a bit of revenge back. _He won't know what hit him..._ A rush of adrenaline filled him at the thought.

And Harry stepped forward.

-

Colin nearly had a heart attack when Harry moved toward him. Could it be? Did Harry really want to...? The look in the dark-haired boy's eyes said yes, but Colin still had a bit of doubt in the tiny part of his brain that had not melted into a pile of horniness at Harry's stance. Harry was _very_ into Malfoy...

Then Harry reached out to touch him, and all remaining traces of rationality disappeared from Colin's mind.

-

Harry slowly ran a finger down Colin's chest. "A picture, you say?" he asked softly, inwardly reveling at the worshipful expression on Colin's face. _Putty in my hands_, he thought bewilderedly. "And of me, without a scrape of clothes... Why, Colin, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you..._want_ me." His hand moved down to the camera, and Harry was surprised to feel his fingers tremble as they brushed against Colin's hand on the way. Not from fear or worry, but from the excitement he felt in the pit of his stomach...

Colin took a shuddering breath. "M-maybe," he stuttered. Harry almost laughed aloud.

It was strange. He was getting such a power rush from this. He had no sexual feelings for Colin, and most of the time the obsessed boy disturbed him, but being able to put Colin in his place...being able to excite another to the point that they forget reason – that was such a turn-on! Harry wondered how Draco might react to this seductive side of him – and quickly stopped that train of thought, somewhat shocked at the rush of heat the resulting image sent south. _This is not the time to get horny, Harry! It might encourage Colin..._

He then slipped a hand down to Colin's hip, right above where the wand sat. "Well, then," he started, making his voice go husky, "maybe I should show you..." He trailed the sentence off suggestively, while at the same time thinking, _I can't believe it – I'm using **Colin** to practice my seduction skills. I'm actually seducing him – but into losing control. What the hell am I doing?_

Colin interrupted his thoughts then with a whispered, "Show me...what?" His eyes were dilated, and his breathing was faster than before.

Harry decided then to end this. He did not think he could take much more of the pheromones Colin was exuding. "What I do to perverts who are in places where they shouldn't be," he said angrily, dropping the act and reaching for the wand. What he did not count on was Colin grabbing his wrist just as his fingers closed around the item. Shocked, he looked up into Colin's eyes.

Colin grinned, a cruel emotion glinting in his excited gaze. "Tsk, tsk, Harry – that's an invasion of privacy. You aren't supposed to take things out of people's pockets like that – especially not _wands_. What would people think?"

Harry gaped for a moment before sputtering, "It's _my_ wand, and you had no right in taking it! And speaking of _invasions of privacy_, what d'you think you're doing right now?!"

The younger boy laughed. "Oh...taking pictures." He pulled both of their hands up, clenching Harry's wrist tightly so that Harry couldn't use the wand. A dark emotion reflected in his eyes, one that Harry could not name but knew he did not like. "You were _asking_ for it, Harry. You are too hot for words, and I would be a fool not to seize the opportunity to see you naked."

Harry lost his temper. Grabbing hold of his towel, he pulled his knee up and rammed it into Colin's groin. As the sixth-year choked and let go of his hand to grab at the wounded area, Harry yanked himself away from the other boy and pointed his wand at Colin's face. "You are _not_ my boyfriend, nor do I even trust you as a friend, and you do _not_ have my permission to see me without clothes. Ever."

As he met Colin's watering eyes, he said tightly, "Ever since you first came to this school, you've done nothing but violate my privacy. I am _sick_ of it, Colin. If you _ever_ try to sneak into the showers, my dorm, any place that I consider a private area, not only will I hex you to oblivion, but I'll also take away any right of yours to own, distribute, or even view of a photograph of me." He saw Colin's eyes go cold at the threat and smiled nastily. "I see you understand. Consider this, then, a taste of what I'll do to you if you violate my privacy again." Swiftly, he cursed the boy to feel whatever pain he was currently experiencing ten times as badly, then put him in a Full-Body Bind.

The adrenaline was running high in his blood. He took one last look at the frozen boy before throwing on his dried robes and grabbing the rest of his belongings. "The curses will end in an hour. For now, I'll let you sit and think about what I said. I wouldn't tell McGonagall if I were you, either, because you'll be punished as well." He glared at Colin before marching out into the steady rain, his back stiff with angry tension.

It was only when he reached Draco's room and touched the doorknob that Harry realized how hard he was shaking. He ran into the room without knocking and slammed the door shut. Draco wasn't in, but Harry wouldn't – couldn't leave. He dumped his belongings on one of the chairs, tossed the wetrobes to the floor, and stumbled to the wardrobe to find something to wear. He didn't let himself think, only focused on searching for some clothes, and when he found a pair of pyjamas, he pulled them on quickly. When at last he felt properly clothed, Harry took a deep breath.

His chest shuddered.

He let out a cry and threw himself onto Draco's bed, grabbing the cloth at his sides and curling into a tight ball. _Why am I so shaky?!_ he thought frantically, eyes darting back and forth but not seeing the darkened room, only the unidentifiable emotion in Colin's eyes. _Why'd he look at me like that? As if he **liked** my cruelty? Why did that scare me? God, how could I do something like that?_

"I feel like such a fool," he whispered miserably, closing his eyes tightly to chase away the images from the locker room.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about earlier, about the power rush, about the shame he now felt. _I hurt someone,_ he kept thinking. _I hurt someone, and I enjoyed it, because they deserved it. Colin deserved it. But I shouldn't have enjoyed it, because hurting people is wrong, so damned wrong – but he deserved to be hurt, 'cause he's hurt so many others, but why, why am **I** hurting? Why am I ashamed of what I did?_

He knew the answer even before he had finished the thought. "Because I acted like Draco used to," he said brokenly. "Because I was mean, and spiteful, and I went too far. I _used_ Colin, and he _liked_ it, and now, _I'm_ feeling bad about what I did, instead of _him_. I'm so messed up."

"No, you're not," a voice said from across the room. Harry started wildly. Heart pounding, he scrambled to sit up and look at the voice's owner.

"Who – what –" he stammered, fingers itching for his wand.

"Shhh," the voice soothed, "it's just me. _Lumos._" The candles in the room lit up, making Harry flinch at the sudden brightness. Blinking the shock away, he looked at the other person.

"Draco?" he ventured in disbelief at seeing the familiar figure. "I didn't hear you come in." His arms, which were holding him up, shuddered, and Harry sat up straight before they could slip.

Draco Malfoy set his books and wand on his desk and moved to the bed silently. Harry could only bear the soft gaze for so long before he looked away. When familiar hands touched him, however, Harry nearly fainted in relief and tactile shock. He turned and grabbed onto Draco, shivering as he burrowed into the warm arms.

"Shhh," Draco said again, and Harry knew he wouldn't have to be alone, because now Draco was here, and Draco understood him better than anyone else did, and now he could finally relax, because Draco was safe. He found himself telling Draco everything that had happened in the locker rooms, from doubting over having sex to feeling shame for what he did to Colin. Through his tale, the blond stayed silent, as if sensing his need to explain.

"I _hurt_ him, Draco. And – I _liked_ it. It filled me with some kind of twisted joy – and I'm so fucked up, Drac, I _liked_ making him suffer, because he deserved it so damn much – but – he liked it too! He _liked_ me trying to trick him, he _liked_ me using him to – to –" He felt Draco's arms tighten around him minutely, and he nearly cried. "I'm sorry," he whispered contritely, feeling horrible – as if he had betrayed his beloved.

"Don't be," the oh-so-familiar voice said into his ear. "It's not your fault at all, angel. _He_ used _you_, _he_ turned the tables on _you_ – you only tried to teach him a lesson." Harry started slightly at the word he had used to describe his plans earlier. Draco hugged him more tightly in response. "It's okay, love. You were protecting yourself. He's the bastard; he's the one who's messed up, Harry – not you. Never you."

Harry looked up into the gentle face, feeling calmer than he had felt all day, even calmer than when he was flying. "How do you know?" he asked.

Draco smiled at him. "I know you, Harry."

Harry answered by closing his eyes and hiding his face in Draco's shoulder. Draco rocked him gently as he shook, kissed his dry cheeks as if to warn any possible tears not to run down them – held him as he fell into a deep sleep, worn by the day's activities.

So deep in sleep was he that Harry never felt Draco tucking him into bed, nor did he react to the warmth of the other boy as he lay on top of the covers beside him for a long time afterward. He never saw the anger in the silver eyes he loved so dearly. He never heard Draco whisper a promise to him, a promise of protection. No, Harry never experienced such things, but he need not have anyway, because he knew that Draco loved him.

-

As Colin lay on the cold, stone ground, he listened to the steady dripping of water hitting the floor in one of the showers. The spells had long faded away, but the feelings of humiliation, shock, and arousal remained in his mind, reminding him of Harry – of his reactions to Harry.

He remembered the look of disbelief Harry had given him as Colin had grabbed his wrist. What an expression! To think he had caught the infamous Harry Potter off guard... Oblivious the boy may be, but even Colin knew of Harry's finely tuned sense for danger. The boy couldn't for the life of him realize someone was flirting with him, but he knew right away when someone was attacking him as well as how to defend himself. Such a trait made Harry one of the best duelers in Britain.

Colin had bested that. The moment Harry had stopped acting seductive, Colin had been released from the hormonal spell Harry had woven over him – not any real spell, to be sure, but the magic of pure lust. Colin was horribly jealous of Malfoy now – such a prize as Harry would be a complete animal in bed...

That look had gone straight to Colin's groin, and that exact image of Animal-In-Bed!Harry had taken over his mind while his mouth had run on autopilot.

Then Harry's accursed defense system had reacted, and Colin had found himself frozen with a wounded pride and extremely bruised family jewels.

Letting Harry trick him had aroused him. Letting Harry best him had shocked him. Letting Harry get away with it all had humiliated him – but Colin couldn't feel completely put down. He knew he had hurt Harry, had scared Harry – and he loved that feeling, knowing that Harry was worrying and angsting because of _him_. That excited him beyond reason, and even the threat of losing his right to photograph Harry couldn't stop Colin from wanting more.

"More," he whispered, eyes darkening. "I want more of him. I'll _have_ more of him. He will be –"

"_Mine._" The voice sent an icy streak of fear straight to his heart, and Colin could only watch in disbelief as Draco Malfoy stepped into the room. The silver-grey eyes, normally bitingly cold, were alive with anger and hate.

"Harry is _mine_, boy. He will never be yours, nor will he be anyone else's. I _won't_ let you or the rest of the world _use_ him any longer. You will never have him, Creevey, because you will only use him to satisfy your own lust, and that will destroy Harry faster than any _Avada Kedavra_ could."

The slim young man walked to where Colin lay, the burning silver eyes fixed on Colin's, which were undoubtedly very wide. "I am Harry Potter's boyfriend, Creevey. Draco Malfoy. I alone have that part of his heart, but his body is his own to share with whomever he pleases. As you might know, Harry is one of those monogamous guys, and seeing as how _I_ am his boyfriend, he isn't going to share his body with anyone else any time soon, _especially_ you. He has repeatedly told you not to take indecent photographs of him, and you have violated these wishes every time. As I recall, there's a law about that sort of thing..." He smiled coldly, a great contrast to the heat in his eyes, as Colin gave a little shudder.

"Now," Malfoy murmured, looking very evil, "whilst Harry might think a few choice spells are enough punishment, I do not; thus, I have taken it upon myself to further your suffering...by one, dealing with you as a rather annoyed Prefect would, and two, leaving you here until Filch arrives. I would love to do more to you...but then I might lose my Prefect status, wouldn't you say? I rather enjoy it, too..."

Colin, who had been dumbstruck enough that he didn't think of getting up, now remembered that he shouldn't be lying on the floor when the very angry boyfriend of the boy he had just come onto was about to punish him for said act. With that thought, the blonde boy pushed himself off the floor, grabbed his forgotten camera and held it in front of him protectively. He tried to glare at Malfoy but didn't quite succeed, possibly owing to the idea that Malfoy, quite frankly, scared the shit out of him. His confident tone of voice didn't betray that, though. "Oh, yeah? What could you do to me, Malfoy? You're not allowed to kill me."

Malfoy smiled. Colin decided he didn't like that smile. "No, but I can take twenty points from Gryffindor and give you two weeks' worth detention with Professor Snape. Now, seeing as Filch should be here in a few moments, I shall take my leave of you with one last warning." Abruptly his eyes, so hot with anger and loathing, turned cold, which, to Colin, seemed to portray the idea of 'I utterly despise you and will make you miserable for the rest of your life if you so much as bat an eyelash wrong' even more easily than before. "Do not go near Harry again. As I'm sure that you have a very good imagination, given that you're a photographer, I'm sure you can come up with many ideas as to what I will personally do to you if you do." The Slytherin said this in a malicious tone, with a similar glint in his cold eyes, and Colin _knew_ that Malfoy was telling the truth.

Yet, somehow, that didn't scare him as much as it should have. Terrified of Malfoy he might be, but Harry meant more to him than the Slytherin ever did. He would get his pictures. He just wouldn't let either Harry or Malfoy know about it. He nodded to show that he understood, and as he watched Malfoy leave, the gait poised and graceful, he let himself smile. _You won't stop me, Malfoy._

"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Creevey... I think it's a bit late to be out of bed, don't you?" the voice of Argus Finch asked softly from the doorway.

_But that just might,_ Colin thought sourly, looking up at the man with dread. _Crud._

-

Warmth. Softness. Comfort.

Such were the three sensations Harry first perceived upon waking, which on that Sunday morning was a slow and languid process. After lying prone in his little cocoon for a long, lazy while, he pulled the covers from over his head, still not opening his eyes. He stretched an arm out, feeling for the body beside which he had become used to waking – at least, on the weekends – but Draco was nowhere within arm's reach. Harry sighed, cracked one eye open, and immediately shut it at the bright light of the crisp morning. He groaned a complaint and heard a chuckle in response.

"Draco," he whined plaintively, "could you please shut the curtains? You know I don't like them open..."

The familiar laugh rang out again, and sweet relief came to the backs of Harry's eyelids as Draco minded his request. Soft footfalls, and a familiar weight settled onto the bed beside him. Harry opened his eyes, blinked a few times to accustom his eyes to the dim light, and smiled up at his boyfriend. "Thank you."

Draco grinned at him. "You really are a baby, Potter. Can't even handle a little light."

Harry laughed softly, feeling completely at home with the Slytherin. "Oh, hush it, Malfoy. I can't help being who I am."

"A large, lazy baby."

"Hush it."

Draco leaned over to kiss him leisurely. "Mmm," he murmured against Harry's lips, "I don't think I will. You'll never have a decent argument again."

Harry closed his eyes, laughing softly. "Too true," he replied, feeling utterly satiated. He felt Draco lay down beside him and turned to cuddle into the older boy. "Mmm, by the way," he started, then nestled into Draco's shirt, sighing in contentment.

The chest beneath him shook with soft laughter. "By the way...?" Draco's soft voice rumbled, and Harry nearly crooned as the feeling reverberated through his body as well.

"Mmrph," said Harry.

He felt Draco lay a kiss on his head. "Finish what you said, angel, and then we can cuddle all you like."

Harry reluctantly pulled himself from the cozy embrace and looked up at Draco, his eyes opening to a half-lidded state. "Mmm. Thank you for last night," he mumbled, smiling at his boyfriend.

Draco was silent for a moment, and his eyes were quiet as they perused Harry's. "You're welcome," he finally said.

Harry understood the hesitation. He fell back into the fluff of Draco's bed, reached over to grab the other wizard, and pulled Draco on top of him. He shifted until he was comfortable under the blond, then happily wound his arms around Draco's neck as the other boy laid his elbows on either side of his head. "You went to the locker rooms," he said, neither accusing nor questioning.

Draco smiled again, softly and affectionately. "I did. Took some points, gave him some detention, left him to Filch," he said, a rather mischievous grin coming over his face. Harry shook his head.

"You're crazy."

Draco reminded him, "But you love me."

Harry chuckled. "I do."

The two smiled at each other, before Draco rolled over to lie beside him. Harry found himself missing the weight. A warm feeling bloomed in his belly, and he reached for Draco.

Draco must have seen something in his eyes – he often said they were the most expressive he had ever seen – and brought up a hand to grasp Harry's and intertwine their fingers. "Harry," he said, but he did not continue.

Harry sighed. "I know." The two lay together, comfortable in the intimacy.

Soon, unable to take the distance any longer, Harry rolled over to lie on top of Draco, chest to chest, while he gazed into the grey eyes. He noticed that the flecks of blue and green were especially brilliant today. "I love you," he intoned, leaning down to kiss the other.

Draco returned that kiss in a surprisingly intense way, and Harry felt a flutter in his chest. "I love being gay," he whispered, smiling against Draco's lips.

"Mmm, I'm glad," the taller boy whispered back, "otherwise I'd have quite a problem." They both chuckled and pulled back from the kiss.

Harry reached up to brush white-blonde strands of hair away from his beloved's eyes. "Draco," he began, then hesitated.

Draco reached up to finger the hair behind his ear. "Yes?" he inquired softly.

Harry glanced up at the gentle eyes, then back at Draco's chin, somehow feeling embarrassed. "Why can't we, Draco? How come you won't...you know..." He glanced again at Draco's eyes, saw the flutter as Draco drew into himself. "Draco, why?"

"Harry –"

Harry touched a finger to the oft-kissed lips. "Why won't you touch me?" he asked, eyes pained. "For weeks now I've been trying to give myself to you, and you used to touch me in places that made me feel so hot, like you _wanted_ me, but lately, you've been...avoiding me, almost, when we're alone. I _want_ you, Draco. Don't you...don't you want me?" he asked, not wanting to, but _needing_ to.

Draco had looked away, unable to bear the look in Harry's eyes. "I do want you, Harry," he said, and under his breath, "just a bit too much..."

Harry sat up suddenly, snapping Draco's visual attention back to him. "Then how come you won't go further with me, Draco?" he asked, voice loud and abrupt in the gentle lull that had pervaded the room. He reached up and began unbuttoning the pyjama top, fingers clumsy and nervous. "I'd give myself to you in a heartbeat, you know that, Draco... If, if you don't want me, just say so, please –"

Warm hands grabbed his and held them still. He met Draco's eyes, feeling self-conscious.

Draco looked so sad, yet almost...angry. Harry felt a bit startled.

"It's not that," Draco said lowly, his eyes dark. "I want you very much, Harry. More so than you would think, because I've more experience than you...but Harry, I don't want to hurt you."

The dark-haired boy was quiet. "You wouldn't –"

"But I could," Draco interrupted. His voice was pained. "I very well could, Harry. You know of my past. I'm not a gentle person, regardless of how I've treated you these past two months. When I'm angry, or excited, or scared, I get rough and I hurt people. I've hurt _you_. Don't say that I haven't, because we both know it's not true."

Harry was silent, yet still he stared into Draco's eyes. He almost felt out of his league, yet...he couldn't, because he knew Draco, just as Draco knew him. Years of working to get under the other boy's skin had taught him about how Draco was. He was still learning just _who_ he was, but...Harry hoped he would have a long time to do that.

"We might not be together for the rest of our lives, Harry," Draco's voice interrupted, as if he had read Harry's thoughts. "We could get into a horrible fight that could shatter our relationship. I might turn back to the dark side. Either of us could get killed." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I don't want to lose you. You know I'm a dark person, love... I don't want you to be tainted by that."

Harry's hands fell to Draco's chest, where they clenched the cloth of his shirt. "Maybe I want to be tainted," he whispered. Draco looked startled at that, but Harry carried on, "I love you, Draco. I love you! I want to share everything that I am with you, and in return, I want you to share everything with me! I want that darkness; I want your darkness! I want you! I'm not completely innocent myself, if you don't remember! I've seen darkness, I've battled it...and I've spent six years of my life fighting you, knowing your darkness. I love you, Draco, and that means your darkness too. Just like you love my light, or whatever you see in me. That's what being in a relationship means – or at least I hope so. That you accept all aspects of your partner. I've accepted all of you, Draco. Why don't you believe that?"

"Because you don't know everything there is to me!" Draco burst out, sitting up just as suddenly as Harry did. The motion surprised Harry so that he fell back onto Draco's legs. Draco looked almost sinister, looming over him, except for the plea in his eyes. "I've done a lot of bad things, Harry, and you don't know about half of them. I've hurt people and enjoyed it – I've hurt _you_ and enjoyed it... What if I do that again? I _won't_ hurt you, Harry. I won't let myself. I can't risk it, either, and that's why I can't let myself touch you. I might lose control!"

Harry felt his eyes water, but he didn't let the tears fall. He pushed himself up, at the same time grabbing Draco by the shirt and yanking the Slytherin in close, close enough to kiss. He didn't close the distance, though, instead brushing his cheek against Draco's and breathing in his scent. "Maybe I _want_ that, Draco. Has that ever occurred to you? That I might want you to lose control? I know in my heart – in my _heart_, Draco – that you won't hurt me. I know that. Please, _believe it_ –"

Draco rested his forehead against Harry's, suddenly sounding tired. "Oh, Harry... I wish I could, I truly do..."

Harry closed his eyes, wishing dearly that he could heal Draco. He then moved the two of them into a much more comfortable position, stretched out together on the bed. He pulled Draco's head to his chest and stroked the blond hair, as the hurting boy held onto him for comfort.

After a few moments of this, Draco pushed himself up, the silken blonde strands falling into his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed Harry gently. "Tell you what," he offered when he had pulled back. "You and I go to the Quidditch pitch. We fly for a bit. Then I take a break and take a good long time to get to know myself. Then, while you visit your Gryffindor friends – whom you have not seen since Friday – I toss the new ideas of myself at Blaise, or the wall, or whatever else is listening. Tonight, we meet here, and I tell you about myself." He glanced into Harry's face, having been staring at the comforter the entire time he had been speaking.

Harry grinned at him, feeling proud and relieved. "I think that's a brilliant idea," he whispered. Draco smiled back, and the two together rose together to greet the day.

-

_It's never enough, is it,_ Draco thought to himself, as he watched Harry perform a loop-de-loop above the pitch. _No matter how hard I try, he isn't happy. There's always something, someone, getting in the way, never giving us peace._ He sighed heavily. _Is Harry Potter so weak? Do people really see him like that? Easy to use, to take advantage of – Merlin, **why**? Why do people see him like that?! Bloody hell, I wish people would stop looking at him like a sexual object! He's too much of a prude to do anything, so it's not like they'll –_

He cut that thought off quickly. Then he blinked, as he realized that he had tensed considerably during the course of his mental tirade, and he made himself relax. _No. It's not Harry's fault that he's sensitive about sexual intimacy – not **consciously**, at least. I'd love to blame those damned Muggles for his insecurity issues – which I can and will – but of those issues, those concerning his sexuality... I don't know. I want to love him, to go that far with him...and to teach myself about making love. I want to take care of him... I don't think I could bear it if I hurt him._

A gust of wind blew across the stands then, and he closed his eyes against it, one hand moving to hold back his hair. _And therein lies the problem. I'm afraid of opening up to him. Screw his insecurity issues; we'll never get **anywhere** unless I can learn to...to relinquish my control. To let him see again what I'd been throwing at him for six years, in hatred, in anger...my own dark side. The part of me that has been battling Harry Potter and what he represents for as long as I can remember... _

_I don't want to drive him away, though._ He let out a snort at the thought. _Not like it won't. He hated that aspect of me. I'm sure he still hates it. I know he doesn't expect me to change...but...doesn't he wonder where it is? Why I've suddenly changed? If I've even changed?_

_I haven't, much. Maybe in the way I carry myself. I used to be such a **bitch** to him – I don't know how **I** could stand myself. I stopped being so...immature...when I realized my feelings for him. Or, rather, when I realized I didn't care shit about following my father to becoming a Death Eater._

_I don't agree with Voldemort's ideals. Nor do I agree with those of Dumbledore... Neither is without fault. The Dark Lord needs to realize that Muggles **are** needed – otherwise magick folk would become so "pureblood" that we would destroy ourselves. New blood is needed, otherwise we'll die out or develop a genetic mutation that turns us blue or something equally ridiculous._

_Dumbledore, on a similar note, must realize that while Muggle appreciation is all well and good, we **should** reveal ourselves to them – just...not all at once._

He glanced up just as Harry whizzed by the stands. The glimpse of his boyfriend reminded him of what he _should_ be thinking about, and with a sigh, he traced his thoughts back to when he'd last thought of Harry.

_But I digress... Ah, yes. My dark side versus Harry's light._ He smirked a bit, eyes following the small form darting around the pitch. _Harry has almost as much darkness as I do, if not more. Different kinds, though, so we really can't measure against each other...except that he is not as innocent as everyone thinks him to be, and I am not as experienced as I am rumored to be. I've had sex...and I've had relationships...but only a few. I've fucked a few Slytherins just for the kicks, but I haven't gone and had sex with the entire school. I'm not a slut. I merely happen to like sex a lot. My partners were few, though, and I was loyal to them._

_Finch-Fletchley was wrong about who was light and who was dark. Harry is the darkness, and the only "light" parts of him are the light of what he wants to believe and his naïveté in social relationships. That's it. He's seen far too much death and destruction to be the eternally bright beacon the world idolizes him to be._

_I, on the other hand, should be more sheltered in that sense. Despite what the rest of the school believes, the Slytherin commons is simply full of drugs, sex, and underhanded dealings. So are the rest of the Houses, as well as the entire world. We don't go around practicing the Dark Arts like everyone thinks we do. _

_Most Slytherins understand darkness better than, say, a Hufflepuff would, but that is merely because of their parents' political alliances. Yes, most Slytherins have Death Eater parents. No, Slytherin is not the only House that produces Death Eaters. We're the spies, the turncoats – but for which side? That is the best secret Slytherin keeps._

_Harry doesn't realize any of that. Hardly any of his mighty Gryffindor friends do. Most of the teachers don't...but Dumbledore does. So do Snape, McGonagall, and Lupin, to name a few. Granger does as well. She understands the strategies of the Houses' stances and the Founders' decisions. Maybe she'll clue the rest of her House in as well._

_Slytherins are innocent, though, in that they are so brainwashed by their parents that they don't see the reality of their preordained path: there will be pain, death, and horror. Their parents are so bent on obtaining the glory that the Dark Lord has promised them that the children follow blindly, that glory's light guiding them to destruction._

_And none of those children will ever realize it – only on the day when that glory's shining doom is put out by Dumbledore's armies will those blindly led be given the sight of truth. The first thing they see – a world of terror and darkness – will forever scar them and force their eyes open at night to ward off the nightmares._

_In that, Slytherins represent the greatest darkness of all: the corruption of innocence._

_And nobody will ever save them._

He sighed, a dim ache forming in his chest at his melancholy reflections. _Unlike my companions, I do know the horror that following the Dark Lord entails. My father trained me well, and I..._

_I cannot forget my past, nor can I ignore it._

His eyes, dulled and focused on nothing around him, began to see again, and Draco looked up at Harry. The painfully familiar figure seemed to sense his stare and flew around to face him. The two shared a long look, before Draco grabbed his broom.

_I think it's time to let off a little stress._

-

The boys raced hard and fast, diving deeply and climbing even higher. As the sun began its descent into the dark oblivion of the dissipating storm clouds, the ochre rays washed over the furious forms, making the boys' shadows flash across the burning tapestries in a faceless but no less dramatic imitation.

Their hearts accelerated. Their breathing quickened. Each time their eyes met, a shiver ran up their spines. They began to tempt each other with suggestive looks and actions in hopes of distracting their opponent; however, the more each boy tempted the other, the more tempted he himself became.

When at last the sun had set, dusk's rosy whispers enticing night to fall, the race became a hunt – though who was the prey and who was the hunter, no observer could have told. Each boy chased and lured, ran from and followed his match; neither boy could any longer ignore the rising excitement in his blood. Finally, the hunt ended, as the two guided their brooms to the ground and moved in sync to each other.

They met with fervor. They met with passion. Each fought to dominate the other in the exchange, which was physical and animalistic, and both boys loved it.

Finally, one submitted, though it could be said that both submitted at the same time. They fell to the ground, clothes half-open and hands moving everywhere, lips locked in an eager, passionate kiss that only served to fuel their lust.

At last they broke apart, hands stilling while they breathed deeply to refill their lungs. Eyes wide open, they stared at each other, neither daring to look away, neither afraid to look closer.

Finally, the taller's eyes dimmed, and he began to pull away. The smaller reached out and held tightly to him, fingers reaching and grasping the strong chin.

"Don't leave," he pleaded, his eyes intense, "Please, don't leave."

And Draco knew, as he stared at Harry, his love's body warm and compliant, those green eyes begging for his physical affection, for his emotional affection, that he would not deny him.

-

When Harry sauntered into the Great Hall for supper, he was feeling particularly ravenous and couldn't wait to tuck into the chicken-and-ham pie the house elves were serving that night. With a cheerful wave to the rest of the school, he breezed past the other House tables and plunked himself down at the Gryffindor table with a deep, contented sigh. He inhaled the many aromas of dinner, decided that food was the greatest thing in the entire world, and dug in with gusto.

He did not notice the multitude of looks thrown his way until Ron jabbed him in the side with a well-placed elbow. After glaring in the offending arm's direction, Harry looked up to see about all of his fellow Gryffindors leering at him, with quite a few of the other tables' occupants peering at him from around the Great Hall. He blinked at his friends, wondering what on earth he had gotten on his face this time, and asked, "What?"

The leers widened, and Harry felt himself smiling back, albeit uncertainly, feeling too good to be bothered by whatever had his classmates so amused. "Did my hair suddenly turn green or something? What's up, guys?"

Seamus leaned forward with a familiar glint in his eye. Harry had learned a long time ago to worry when Seamus' expression turned anything resembling mischievous. At seeing that particular twinkle in the hazel eyes across from him, he duly began to fear for his life.

"You're _glowing_, Harry," the Irishman drawled, and several of the Gryffindors' leers became very knowing and slightly perverted, if Harry was anyone to judge them. Then Seamus' comment registered in his brain, and immediately he scoffed.

"Am not," he declared, ignoring the blush creeping up his neck. He attacked his pie, determined to ignore the perverse nature of his housemates.

Several people snickered, and Seamus raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not? Then, by chance, did you _not_ get laid this afternoon?"

Harry choked, and after a good pounding on the back by his good pal Ron, plus a few gulps of cool water supplied by his dear friend Hermione – both of whom, he had noticed, were attempting serious faces but were also grinning _far_ too widely for his taste – he was able to breathe again. He felt his blush begin to rush around his ears and quickly pointed his fork at Seamus. "Now, Mister Finnigan, I do believe that's none of your business," he said, glaring sternly. When he looked back to his pie, however, another smile was fighting to gain place on his lips.

Of course, Seamus had to notice this, to Harry's eternal consternation. "Well, bloody fuck, Harry, I do believe you _did_ get laid! And let's see if the lucky lad is as afterglowy as you are..." Seamus, along with several other Gryffindors, quickly turned to look over the array of curious yet hungry students to the far table, where sat Draco Malfoy. Harry didn't bother to look, because he knew exactly how Draco looked: sated, pleased, and extremely smug.

At the thought of his boyfriend, a dreamy smile crept over Harry's lips, and he let out a soft sigh. He ignored the shocked looks of his peers and took a drink of pumpkin juice. Well, they _had_ teased him about it. Didn't they believe their own assumptions?

"I don't think that's any of your business, Seamus," he said matter-of-factly. "You can think all you want about what we get up to, but whatever you come up with, I'll bet that it won't be true. Your imagination will take you to very far extremes, which aren't anything like the truth, and I don't feel like sharing that truth with anyone. _Especially_ you, Seamus. It's none of your business, or anyone else's, so you can stop thinking about it. Now."

Silence followed, and Harry happily continued with his meal. Oooh, dessert! The pudding or the ice cream? Decisions, decisions...

-

After dinner, Harry took a walk of the grounds with Ron and Hermione. The three wandered the familiar paths in a comfortable silence, though Harry knew that his best friends were itching to ask him about earlier. As they passed a bench, Harry suddenly stopped and sat down, reclining into a comfortable sprawl against the worn wood. Ron and Hermione stopped almost immediately and turned to face him, twin expressions of confusion adorning their faces. Harry smiled at them.

"I didn't go all the way with him."

Understanding dawned, and the two sat down on either side of him. Hermione placed a hand on his knee. "I assume that you did do something sexual with him, then?"

Harry ignored the noise Ron made and nodded to her. "Yeah. It was...nice." He felt his face heat up but didn't try to hide it. "The funny thing is, we've been...tense, lately, concerning sex."

Ron nudged Harry's shoulder. "Malfoy not putting out, eh?"

Harry smirked. "Something like that, Ron. I'd tell you more, but that's Draco's business." He allowed time for them to absorb that before continuing, "Even if we didn't, you know, _do it_, we still...did something. And that makes me happy, because...'cause I know he's attracted to me. Not that I don't mind the idea that he's trying to protect me, but –"

"Trying to protect you?" Hermione interrupted. "From what? Does he mean Voldemort? Is his father planning something? If he knows something, he really ought to tell Du—"

Harry laughed, holding up his hands as if to ward off her frantic concern. "No, no, nothing like that, Herm. He...well," he paused, glancing at Ron.

Ron stared back at him. "What?"

Harry sighed. "He wants to protect me...from himself," he continued quietly.

"What?" his companions cried. Harry cringed slightly and opened his mouth to explain.

"I knew he was bad for you. I don't like it, Harry. If _he's_ scared of hurting you, then you probably shouldn't be with him. That Malfoy! If he's hurt you –"

Harry shook his head quickly. "No, Ron! He's...it's because I'm not...you know..."

Hermione caught on first. She stilled, looking at him in a peculiar way. "Because of your inexperience."

Harry slumped. "Yeah."

Ron stopped ranting and stared at him. Then he looked away, though Harry noticed that his friend had gone slightly red. "Oh. Sorry, Harry."

"'S alright."

The three were quiet for a little while, and the silence made Harry somewhat uncomfortable. He stood up and stretched, his eyes scanning the skies. "Well, I'm going to go visit Hedwig. You want to come?" he queried, turning bright green eyes on his companions.

Hermione smiled at him. "Sure, Harry," she said, even as Ron was nodding.

Just like that, the companionable atmosphere was back. Later, in the Owlery, as Hedwig greeted Harry enthusiastically, Harry felt that he couldn't be happier.

-

_To Be Continued..._

I _really_ don't like this "QuickEdit" thing. ::plans on complaining:: I have to add dividers now, because it deletes the stars. ::mutters...:: Anyway...

Well, if you aren't in the Yahoo! Group for TAAM, then join now! All you need is a Yahoo! ID, and those are free. Just go to http : groups . yahoo . com / group / taamlist / !

I'm in college now, so updating will hopefully come more quickly now than in high school, for various reasons. Wish me luck, 'cause I'll probably need it. =D If any of you know some good information on Halloween, Samhain, and/or Paganism, feel free to email me with that, because it'll come in use with the next couple of chapters. Love you all, and thank you for staying with me through this!


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